


Kismet

by MrsRen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Death Eaters, Disregarded Canon, F/M, Family Secrets Unraveling, M/M, Politics, Royalty AU, Werewolf Mates, Werewolf!Draco, pureblood!Hermione
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-02-28 08:11:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 80,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18752458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsRen/pseuds/MrsRen
Summary: Kismet; destiny, or fate. Hermione begins uncovering secret after secret, eventually finding herself trapped between her sense of duty to her family, the war that's breaking out across Wizarding Britain, and discovering what sacrifice and love truly mean.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a long author's note, but there won't be any other long notes in the story. I've been planning this story since last September, and am now have about three months worth of updates built up. I plan to update this once a week, most likely on Wednesdays. It's currently slated for 32 chapters, but could go over that depending on how writing falls.
> 
> Stories sometimes take a village, and this one definitely had one. Thank you to: CourtingInsanity, OtterlyArdent, TheMourningMadam, HaveCourageandBeKind, DiagonAlly, MykEsprit, Frumpologist, LadyKenz347, and mhcalamas. Whether you edited, or were my sounding board, you are absolutely incredible.
> 
> Warnings consist of: eventual violence (worse than canon typical), torture, death, main character death (all I'm willing to say to soothe worries is that Draco and Hermione are safe), and sexual content. And in a few chapters (I will warn appropriately) there is an assault, and threatened rape.
> 
> Notes consist of: This is a complete magical AU. Hermione is a pureblood, the sister of Theo, and the daughter of King Nott. There are several tropes that tie into this story, which will make themselves obvious quickly. Also, this story is slow to the start, at least in terms of Draco and Hermione. It picks up, and when it does, it picks up fast. That being said, there is a substantial amount of plot to this since it's a war story.
> 
> That's all for my long winded note (so sorry!) and I hope you enjoy it!

 

* * *

She'd always thought of home as a cage.

A pitiful thing to believe when it should have stood for so many other things. Perhaps it might have felt like coming home, but she was always greeted by the harsh draft of the corridors, and the expectant look on her father's face. The castle wasn't the uninviting structure it had once been, with it's high towers stretching into the sky.

Hermione knew she was the only one who thought of the looming building as frightening. Her older brother teased her for it; her friends mocked her for it during their years in Hogwarts.

Sitting on the high walls looking over the forest, Hermione gnawed at her fingernails. Somewhere, inside of the castle, her father was searching for her. Knowing he was waiting to drop the news of marriage on her, she thought a sharp dive over the ledge sounded better than being wrangled into a marriage that was more of a business deal than anything else.

"You won't marry for love, and I'm sorry." Her brother had been quick to tell her this when she was younger, and the empty promises of how when he was king, he would absolve any marriage she found herself in.

Theodore and Hermione Nott could not have been more different, and yet he was the first person to be her friend. Of course there were times she wished they were still children, racing around the castle with faux wands during a time where their duty to their family was not being seared into their minds. That wasn't to say they didn't fight as siblings did. Theo had a wicked scar at his right temple from his younger sister.

Their father wasn't an unkind man. He smiled frequently, swept her into hugs that lifted her off her feet often, but with each that passed he cared less and less about her happiness. At twenty-one, he had wanted her to be wed shortly after Hogwarts. It was a miracle that she'd made it this far without being put in a full body bind, and thrown into a ceremony with whichever pureblood he chose.

The only reason it hadn't happened was because her father had an obligation to be sure his heir found a suitable match first.

Then again, the Nott—Greengrass relationship was an entirely other story.

* * *

The hem of silk robes skimmed across the linoleum flooring as she made her way down the corridor. Barefoot—Nott Sr. hated that, said it made her look like a commoner—Hermione let her fingers slide against the stone wall as she hummed to herself. Successfully having avoided her father until he left for the final quidditch match at Hogwarts, the afternoon was freed up for her to roam as she pleased.

Theo was off in Diagon Alley, and by three o'clock in the afternoon he'd probably found his way into a pub with Daphne. It wasn't a place for any betrothed couple, especially not a royal one, but Hermione was well aware that they weren't a regular couple.

Daphne was an enthusiastic blonde, who like any other pureblood in her circle had the world at her fingertips. Marrying into the Wizarding World's most esteemed family was just the beginning of the doors that would open for her. The eldest Greengrass sister had been a long time friend of Hermione's older brother, and that meant she would lie for him.

Despite the unfairness of Hermione's situation, she didn't compare herself to Theo. In reality, she was better off than him. At least she didn't have to hide who she was for fear of being cast out of the family. Theo had everything to lose: status, money and power. He would be offended if she'd even thought of it that way, and he would be sharp tongued to remind her that he didn't care about those things.

She sighed, coming to a stop in front of the library. Hermione had spent an entire lifetime reading her way through their personal archives, but her father had recently ordered an entirely new collection. One authored by a well known Potions Master from France, and he'd passed along the tidbit that the volumes weren't even in the shops yet.

She raised her hand, and then turned without another thought. The library would be the first place her father would look for her once he had returned from Hogwarts, and she'd really rather not be easily found when it came down to a discussion regarding her future.

Hermione nodded to the maid she passed, smiling politely as she rounded the corner. Hurrying down the spiraling staircase in the center of the castle, Hermione lifted the edge of her dress. She struck her toe on a stray piece of stone, and she hissed, "It's been there for years," she grumbled. "Yet you stub your toe everytime."

The dungeons reminded her of Hogwarts, of the years she'd spent with Harry and Ron in Professor Snape's class. In fact, she hated change so much that it was no coincidence it was arranged just the same as her former Potions Professor's classroom. The stone was cool beneath her feet, but she couldn't very well start brewing while barefoot.

Without her wand, she gave a flippant wave of her hand while muttering, "Accio shoes." The practical pair of trainers zipped into her grasp, a house elf sprinting after them.

Winky was bossy, and stood in as a mother since Hermione was a child. Hermione imagined the sight of Winky with her hands on her hips would never end. "Princess Hermione," she panted.

She sighed. "Will you ever call me just Hermione?"

The little elf was appalled. "You are my princess," she shook her head, shaking a finger at the witch before her. "The daughter of a noble house and you shy away from your titles so easily!"

That was the thing. Hermione supposed there were little girls who dreamed of being princesses, and once upon a time, being a princess was enjoyable. Until it meant sacrificing what you wanted for traditions you didn't care for. Hermione gave a tight smile. "I apologize, Winky. What brought you down here?"

"You can't wear those with that!" Winky exclaimed, motioning at her tailored robes.

Even though she wasn't surprised, Hermione's mouth fell open. Yes, the ensemble looked ridiculous, but it wasn't as if anyone would see her down here, which was exactly what Hermione replied with.

Winky's eye twitched, and Hermione took a step back. "You don't need to be down here to brew Mister Lupin's potions, Princess. You can buy them."

Hermione ushered her backward, gripping the heavy oak door in her hand. "Winky, if my father asked you to stop me from brewing, he should have known it wouldn't work."

Winky reared back.

"Do not beat yourself, Winky. You're my elf, are you not?" Hermione said gently, kneeling down. "I enjoy brewing Remus' Wolfsbane. Plus, it's practice for when I pursue training to become a Potions Master myself."

Tears sprung to Winky's eyes as she yanked her ears down, stomping her feet and wailing. "No, Princess Hermione! Master Nott says your duty is to—"

"My family, I know." Hermione cut her off. "I haven't forgotten what plans he has for me. Oh, please stop hurting yourself."

Her elf stared at the ground. "Master will be so upset with Winky."

Hermione laughed, shaking her head. "Come now, anyone who has ever set foot in this castle knows that I'm grossly stubborn. Father can't blame you." She sniggered. "The only person he can blame is my mother."

Winky peered up at her. "If you don't listen to your father, will you take Winky with you?"

She patted her on the head. "Of course. I'll be at dinner." Hermione rose to her feet and shut the door. "Probably a few minutes late."

"Don't be la—"

The door sealed shut, effectively silencing the rest of the castle, and Hermione exhaled in relief.

* * *

Hermione was indeed late to dinner, but she hadn't meant to be a half hour late. Presuming she would be back in mere minutes, she'd rushed to the floo while cradling the batch of Wolfsbane and flooed to Remus' flat.

Her professor turned friend had taken the batch from her hands gratefully, and then they had discussed a new book that had recently released. It was just too easy to lose track of time.

She popped directly into the dining room with a fierce crack! before taking her spot across from Theo and to the right of her father, who sat at the head of the table.

Nott Sr. glanced at her from the corner of his eye, carefully laying his fork to the side of his plate. "Winky tells me she told you not to be late."

Theo stared at his plate, a smile curving his lips as he fought off a laugh.

"I didn't meant to be," she said. "I was sidetracked."

"By the werewolf."

"Father," she stressed, her eyes narrowing. "I'd appreciate if you didn't talk about Remus that way, if you please."

Her father pinched the bridge of his nose. "Werewolves are—"

Hermione's knee bumped against the underside of the table and her glare was wicked. "Is that what we're going to do tonight? Fight? Father, can't we just have one night where we pretend to be a supportive family?"

Theo's humored expression slipped. "Oh, here it comes," he muttered, shoveling roasted potatoes into his mouth.

Father's brows drew together and in a rare display of being truly caught off guard, he had nothing to say immediately.

Hermione stood from her seat, her eyes hard and her appetite lost. "I believe I'll retire to my rooms for the night."

He frowned from the head of the table, only inches away from her, and waved his hand. His daughter flew back into her chair, her bum solidly fixed to the surface by a sticking charm. "I think not."

"I thought we agreed no wandless magic at the table," Hermione sneered. In a long standing rule in the Nott family, ever since she'd hexed her older brother bloody for announcing her crush on a boy, wands were not permitted at the dining table.

It was rubbish if even Father didn't follow the rule.

Father sniffed, lifting his drink to his mouth. "I apologize for speaking of your friend that way."

Hermione crossed her arms, not buying the half cocked apology one bit. "An apology only means something if you intend to follow through with changing the behavior."

"He's too old to be a friend, Hermione." Father began, pushing his plate away, a clear sign that a verbal lashing was prepared. "No matter your opinion on the...unfortunate circumstances he's found himself in, werewolves are dangerous."

She scoffed. "Remus takes Wolfsbane every month. I'm in more danger of being mauled by whatever man you'd like to sell me off to than by him."

His jaw clenched.

Theo was still silent, having leaned back in his chair as he waited for the inevitable. Marriage was a bit of a controversial topic in their house now, and one could not go one day without hearing about it. Theo had bet on when one side would cave, placing bets with house elves and close friends.

"I spoke to Gregory Goyle today." Father said, not too seriously lest he want a pan chucked at his head. "He asked about you."

Hermione did not get a chance to voice her disgusted opinion.

Theo's fist hit the table. "I would kill him for looking at her."

While their father looked pleased by the show of protection, Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. The man couldn't find his way out of a wet paper bag. I'm not worried about Father doing him the honor of considering a betrothal."

Her brother still looked as if he'd smelled something foul. "And what did that bumbling oaf have to say?" Theo asked as he stabbed a fork into the potato on his plate.

Hermione snorted. Some things would never change and at the top of that list were Theo's temper when it came to her, and his immaturity.

"He asked if she was betrothed yet."

Silence.

And then—

"Are you serious?" Hermione laughed. "He's more ballsy than I thought."

Her father was not impressed by her crass statement. "I was less than pleased to inform him in front of a crowd that I seemingly have no control of my daughter."

"Well," she drawled, batting her eyes and grinning, "I'm not an animal meant to be controlled."

Theo's foot bumped against hers below the table, and the shake of his head went unnoticed by their father. "Don't," he mouthed.

Nott Sr. grimaced. "I don't think of you as an animal, Hermione." It was best to keep her opinion of how she thought that was a lie to herself.

"What happened?" She might not feel guilty for putting her foot down on what she wanted out of life, but she knew just how cruel Pureblood circles could be. Knowing that someone had likely attempted to embarrass her father made her just as angry as the thought of arranged marriage.

He waved a hand. "Cassius Parkinson made a comment of how I was surely setting a bad example by not wrangling you into marriage bonds yet."

The words bonds sent a shiver down her spine. Hermione kept her mouth shut, knowing how important it was to the future of their family, and she didn't want to fight, not yet. Not when it was sure to create a fissure that only grew wider with time, and she feared it would be a chasm she could never mend.

"Of course, Lucius was quick to defend me." he continued. "Cassius made an arse of himself when he mentioned how his daughter had found herself with the perfect match a few years ago."

Her mouth dried, and she'd known what was coming.

"Almost therapeutic to see the old man turn as red as your little friend's hair when Lucius gently reminded him that Pansy had never been in talks with the Malfoys."

Hermione didn't think of it much anymore; she had no reason to. Theo, however, looked like he'd been struck in the gut by a stray bludger. More out of politeness than anything else, Hermione asked, "How is his mother?"

If her father thought she was only trying to divert the attention from herself, he didn't comment on it. "'Cissa is as well as any parent can be who's been forced to bury a child."

"We didn't get to bury him," Theo snarled, his hand curling into a fist on the table. "Lucius left him in the forest to die for fear he'd been—"

Their father held up his hand. "Theo, I know you're still angry."

Their dinner had taken quite the turn as Theo rose from his chair, his lips set in a grim line as he left the hall without looking back.

Hermione moves to chase after him, but found herself still stuck. Shooting her father a weak look and an even weaker, "Please," she was freed.

Theo was shaking when she found him at the far edge of the castle, sitting in the familiar spot on the wall where she frequently found herself. She climbed onto the ledge carefully, swinging her legs over the edge and smoothing her skirts.

"I'm sorry," she whispered while she looped an arm through his and hugged his arm. "I know how much you miss him."

There was a strangled sound that came from his throat. "I don't think about him as much as I should."

She shook her head. "It's been two years, big brother. Draco wouldn't have wanted you to stay depressed. I bet if he were here, he would tell you to pull yourself together."

And it was true. She had known the Malfoy scion for all of her life, had been teased mercilessly by girls in her year when the gossip surfaced that their fathers were in talks. Hermione had been the third wheel when it came to Theo and Draco.

"Sometimes," he broke off as he glanced down at her, "sometimes, I wonder if he's alive somewhere."

She shook her head again. "He would have come home, Theo. Nothing would have kept him from his friends, or his mother." Hermione didn't mention Lucius Malfoy, not when she'd seen his son verbally spar with him over the years.

Theo didn't seem to believe her. "Daph tells me I think about it too much."

"I didn't know you still did." she murmured quietly while the wind blew past them. She shivered into the curve of him. For a moment, the thought that he no longer wanted to confide in her stung, but there was sure to be a reason.

He shrugged. "You had nightmares when I first talked to you."

She remembered the night clearly. "I know. I wish I hadn't if it meant you wouldn't talk to me."

Theo had spoken of his fears in the study that was only lit by dim candle light. Of how he wondered what his best mate's last moments had been like. Had he suffered terribly? Had he died alone?

Had he been infected?

The last thought was dangerous. It gave way to Theo hoping he was alive, afflicted by Lycanthropy, but alive. And Hermione has found herself thrust into a nightmare that consisted of twigs piercing her skin, razor sharp incisors are her throat, and blood splattering across the brush of the forest.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, brushing her hands through his hair affectionately. His eyes were red rimmed, the skin below his eyes puffy. "But Draco is gone. He couldn't have survived."

* * *

 


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the outpouring of support for just one chapter! I'm blown away. I'm updating late tonight since I will leave for work early tomorrow, and refuse to pull myself out of bed early.
> 
> This chapter was beta'd via Grammarly, and all mistakes are my own.

 

* * *

Hermione would have preferred to wake to sunlight streaming through her window, bathing her in a warm light that curled her toes. Rarely, she found, did things work out that way in England. Instead, she was jarred awake in the middle of the night by a fierce clap of thunder that could have rattled the Gods.

Sitting ramrod straight in her bed, her hand rose to her throat, her pulse thrumming wildly. She peered out the window from her bed, finding that it was still dark, the stars suspended in the sky, and the sun wouldn't rise for several hours yet. She donned her slippers, wrapping a thick wool cloak around her frame before leaving her chambers.

Theo was fast asleep, or possibly he wasn't, but she had no desire to know about his nighttime activities.

Hermione padded down the corridors, her wand tucked neatly up her sleeve. She passed the lanterns, each springing to life to light the way as she walked by. It was a handy charm that had been used in the castle for centuries.

Illuminated by the shallow light that ebbed and flowed as a flame did, Hermione made her way down to the library. The entryway was made of glass, coloured fragments that caught the light of the moon, or the sun, and came to life. In the glass woven by magic, there was a mural.

She'd been taught the story since she could understand it. She recognized the Founders of Hogwarts, Merlin and Morgana, and her ancestors. She didn't think of the legends as much anymore now that she had reached adulthood. Still, Hermione paused to look upon one of her ancestors, a large man embedded into the glass who went by the name of Thassos Nott.

His portrait was on the second floor, and he sometimes spoke to her as she passed by. He was an interesting character, far too stuck in the traditions she so loathed for her to really carry on a conversation with him. Her father had sent Thassos to pop into the portraits of Hogwarts once or twice in her time there.

In his hand was a locket, presumably Salazar Slytherin's. She'd never understood why he was holding it in the first place, why it would be incorporated into a mural to showcase the heritage that their world—her family—had been founded on. It was only a locket, a trinket. The mural moved, the scene playing out, and Thassos handed the locket to Salazar, and his gaze turned onto Hermione.

Well, not really. While the mural was animated, he wasn't looking  _at_ her.

Hermione quietly opened the door and slipped inside. It had been little over a week since her father had informed her that there were new Potions texts, ripe for the taking. More often than not, Thoros Nott was a busy man, and he truly didn't have time to chase her around their ancestral home and force her to marry.

Though he would have liked to. Even if he was mainly a figurehead for the Wizengamot now, the bulk of the king's power having been usurped by them over a hundred years ago, he did have things to do. But she wasn't at all surprised when she found him sitting at his desk in the corner of the library.

"Father," she greeted as she fell into a seat across from him. The cushion was red, plush against her bum, and the armrests were intricately crafted. "What has you up so late?"

"Thunder." his voice was dry, and he didn't look up from the parchment he held his wand to. "I assume it's the same for you?"

She nodded. "What are you doing?"

He tabled his wand, resting his chin on his knuckles. "You might find it interesting. Perhaps you could help me see it from your views rather than the normal stereotypes."

Hermione perked up at that. It wasn't often that he asked for her opinion, usually because she offered it anyway, and loudly. "What is it?"

He sighed. "A woman named Dolores Umbridge has proposed a law to counter one that was proposed by the Department of Magical Creatures. Mind you, I'm not supposed to be involved in any laws before they pass through the Wizengamot."

She knew. They came to him after being passed or denied, and typically it was all for show anymore. "Then why are you looking into it? Surely this would cause you problems?"

He pulled his reading glasses that had already been sliding down his nose from his face. "I'm quite certain it would make several individuals angry, but it's a law that would interest you. As much as I would prefer you to simply keep quiet when it comes to politics, I'm well aware you won't."

She blinked. Must he sound so foreboding? "I'm not going to be a nice little house witch, Father. It's not my desire."

"Yes. Well, if your desire is to speak in politics, I plan to show you how to do it correctly lest you make a fool out of yourself."

"You mean lest I make a fool out of this house, don't you?"

He glared at her, his muted expression lit by the candlelight. "No, Hermione. I mean you."

She shut up at the tight expression on his face.

"The Department of Creatures has proposed a bill for werewolves. I'm told that they had a plethora of plans for other creatures that are considered half-beings,"

"It's disrespectful to call them half-beings. I've spoken to the centaurs in the Forbidden Forest, and if they were to organize themselves, they may not overthrow the Ministry, but they would put a large dent in it."

The conversation had scarcely begun and he already looked exhausted. The lines and wrinkles of his face were drawn into a frown. "I think I'll ignore the part where you spoke with centaurs,"

"I was fine."

"That is  _not_  my point. As to your point, would it be terribly much for me to ask you to not convince the centaurs to overthrow our government?" His eyes reading over the parchment he had no doubt already memorized, he continued, "It's a nice dream. They propose that werewolves should be able to hold a standard job, and receive a steady income."

Hermione nodded. "They absolutely should. It's cruel any other way."

Her father continued without acknowledging her. "To which part of the proposed bill includes a clause where employers can no longer discriminate against those infected with Lycanthropy. They propose that there is a simple way to fund the high demand of Wolfsbane, which is to increase a sales tax on non-essential goods. The tax would be higher for the wealthy, and to be quite frank, if they taxed only one of the Sacred 28, it would cover the demand." He looked to her with a sharp look.

"I know. That doesn't leave this room. I know when we are only debating, Father. I would never try to undermine you."

"Umbridge, she's an utterly foul woman, called the bill an abomination. She details how multiple lives have been lost at the hands of werewolves, the lives of children, and how they are a menace on society."

It was the same drivel that she'd heard for years, the same nonsense that had led to Remus being sacked as a professor. Hermione was tired of it. She waved her hand angrily, wanting nothing more than to scorch the offending parchment where it sat. "Of course they're dangerous. How can they not be when we aren't helping? The humane thing to do  _is_  to supply Wolfsbane. Father, we are in a danger of our own design. We say how they are dangerous, but we do nothing to help them."

"Interesting." he murmured. "It could be argued that they don't deserve the humane thing, dear daughter," there was a spark in his eye, and she knew he was thriving on their debate now, "because they are not human. Or perhaps they would rather vote to put them down like a rabid animal?"

"Remus is an animal once a month."

His eyes drew together. "Don't make this about one werewolf, Hermione. You'll lose the battle before it's begun."

She drew a sharp breath. "They transform once a month. Re—some werewolves have locked themselves up so they  _don't_ kill anyone. I would pay the fees to have Wolfsbane supplied with my own vault, and we both know that it would never empty it."

He held a hand up and she was certain she had failed his little test. "That's an honorable claim, Hermione. I know how much you care, but you know as well as I that Ministry laws cannot be funded by the royal family. It's why our duty to the Wizarding World is paramount. Our citizens will pay for the decisions we make, literally and figuratively."

She sighed, and nodded. "I understand, Father. Forgive me, but I'm not sure what you want out of this conversation with me." Hermione didn't like to admit she didn't understand, but it was fruitless.

He laughed. "I suppose I can't blame you for that given how unlike me it is to ask for your opinion."

Hermione folded her arms across her chest and crossed one leg daintily over the other. "Too true. You normally pull Theo aside for this. Well warranted to do so given that he will assume your position one day. Why not discuss this with him? Not that I'm displeased to discuss it myself."

Father smiled. "Your brother can't convince me why this is for the betterment of society. He'll repeat what you've told him, but he lacks the passion to see it come to pass. You, however, are fuming at the thought of Dolores Umbridge speaking out against your views. Merlin, your hair is crackling."

She flushed and smoothed down her hair. It was a habit she'd had ever since childhood, and it was mortifying for the untamed mess to start sparking. "You want my opinion?" She asked. "Why?"

"I want you to change my mind, truly convince me why the Department of Creatures should win this plight of theirs.  _If_  you convince me, I will see to it that this passes through the Wizengamot."

Her eyes narrowed immediately. "And what do you want in return?"

Because he might not be hinging a law on her cooperation as that was no way to rule, but to even have the  _chance_  have her voice heard, that was sure to cost her.

"I'm not asking you to pick a match the night of, but I'm asking you to attend an event in your honor next weekend."

It left a foul taste in her mouth. She would have to wine and dine with only the best of Purebloods. She would be on the arm of men who salivated at her dowry, the power she represented, and she hated all of it immensely.

"If I convince you, I'll go without a fight. I'll let the seamstress fit me for an abominably fitted dress. I'll let them pin my hair in an extravagant, and wholly unnecessary style. But if I don't convince you due to the fact that you already know you won't change your mind—"

He smirked, and fingered the parchment before him. "If you are unable to sway me, you'll still attend the party. You'll just be less agreeable."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, Father."

"Excellent, shall we take a walk through the gardens?"

"It's storming!"

"Are you a witch or aren't you? Cast a water repelling charm, little flower. I'd like to go for a walk. At least we can see lovely sights while we talk about such a dreadful topic."

Hermione stood and glanced down at her attire. Still clad in pajamas and a robe, she said, "I'll change quickly and meet you downstairs."

Father's laugh echoed as she tore out of the library. "Slow down, Hermione! You'll trip on your robes and knock your teeth out!"

"I'm fine!" She hollered. The torches in the corridor roared to life one more as she passed them, dying just as quickly as they had flickered to life.

Light seeped out from beneath Theo's door, but she knew that there was a silencing charm fixed in place. Knowing that her best friend was in the room with her brother, it was awkward at times, but it was simply the way things were done now. Being honest was what Theo longed for, but there was too much at stake.

Hermione rushed to change into a comfy pair of jeans, quickly donning a maroon jumper Daphne had left in her chambers. She tucked her wand into the cashmere pocket, and kicked her slippers off. Trading up to a pair of worn trainers that had seen her through the last few years, Hermione flew down the moving flights of stairs.

"What are you doing?" A voice called out as she weighed the option of waiting or just leaping across the gaps that the stairway left as it swung around. "Merlin, it only takes a moment to come back around."

Hermione bounced down the stairs, jumping off from the third step and landed at her father's feet. "That takes too long. Shall we?" She spelled her hair into a loose knot atop her head, wishing it looked more like the styles in  _Witch Weekly_ rather than a dragon's egg, but nonetheless.

After charming her clothes to repel the rain, she followed her father into the open space, and counted the cobblestones as they made their way through the maze of hedges and into the garden.

There were so many wonderful things about magic, the ability to have an infinite amount of possibilities at your fingertips. She was twenty-one and it was still all so mind-blowing that she was gifted this life, to be born into it, to grow into a witch.

"Why do you believe we should supply Wolfsbane?"

Focusing on the dimly lit path before them, Hermione raised her chin a bit. "From a practical standpoint rather than a personal one, we hold all of the power to protect ourselves from werewolves. Supplying it wouldn't hurt even the poorest families, especially if it's taxed on a scale. It stands to reason that we should protect society, but what if we could do both?"

He gave a slight nod of his head. "Some would say it's not the job of Wizards to protect them."

"If they insist slaughtering werewolves is preferable to helping them, I think it's time to stop pretending the werewolves are the problem."

He chortled. "I would offer a sack of galleons to see you say that to the Wizengamot."

Hermione stretched her fingers out, the pads of her fingers brushing against a violet petal of a nearby flower. "Arrange it, I'll do it for free." she muttered seriously, "I'll take out a full cover spread in the Daily Prophet."

"And put yourself at the mercy of that nutter Skeeter, and her possessed quill?" he snorted. "Unlikely. Do you want to change the werewolf regulations because you know and admire one?"

She was offended he would even ask, but it was all a game and her father played politics perfectly. He was usually a step ahead, just as he was right then.

"I would like to live in a world where it's not a mob mentality. Society is so against werewolves leading normal lives, but what if I were infected? No, listen to me before you brush me off," she murmured as he raised a hand to cut her off. "The Lupins were targeted by Fenrir Greyback when Remus was a child, when he was turned into a werewolf. You're a stickler for procedure, for my safety,"

His lips twisted into a grimace. "I'm not a stickler," he muttered under his breath. "I am allowed to care for my children's safety."

She bit her lip, wondering if this was a time where she could truly consider bringing up what she wondered about the war, Voldemort, and all that had come before she was an infant.

"If it were me after the war, and I don't bring it up a cheap shot, would you have cast me aside? Would you not have a daughter? Would I have been cast aside?"

He was silent as they strolled along the garden path, his features lit by the moon overhead and she focused on the droplets of water falling to the ground. "I would have moved worlds to be sure you were accepted in society."

Her father's solemn admission made her heart clench, but there was no time to dally over sweet words. Hermione raised her head, and stepped in front of him, placing her hands on her hips. "Don't make this about one hypothetical werewolf, Father. You'll lose the battle before it's even begun."

The only sign that she'd taken him by surprise at all was the slight widening of his eyes. "I'll arrange a meeting in the morning with the Department of Creatures before I throw my weight around."

"You're planning to just pop into the Ministry? Father, even I know you can't be seen swaying decisions at all."

"Oh, yes," he said as if he'd completely forgotten. "You're right, my dear. Whoever shall I send in my place? Perhaps I could find someone at the last minute to have brunch with Amos Diggory at," Father made a show of raising his wrist as if checking a watch, which he never wore, "eleven o'clock this morning?"

"Hmm," she laughed quietly. "Who indeed? Perhaps you could have someone who is brazenly passionate about creature rights meet with him under the guise that it's to invite his son to this event you painstakingly planned for you still unwed daughter?"

His head fell back as he laughed loudly, the sound sending the birds scattering from the trees. "You would have made a brilliant Slytherin." he mused.

She beamed with pride. "I make an even better Gryffindor? Eleven o'clock? It rather sounds like you already made these plans. Did you believe you would be convinced?"

"By you?" he snorted. "I knew you'd never let me go until you had forced me to play my hand. You have a dress appointment tomorrow at three in the afternoon. Do not," He tapped her nose, "be late."

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Three Preview:
> 
> "It's crooked, darling."
> 
> She jumped, her eyes shooting open as the portrait of her mother came to life. The corner of her lips twitched and she was laughing before she knew she'd started. "It's nice to hear your voice, Mum."


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, here is another update. I hope you will enjoy. My beta for this chapter was Grammarly and myself so all mistakes are my own.

 

* * *

The meeting with Amos Diggory had gone splendidly as far as Creature Rights went. The conversation had been stimulating, the food delicious, but there was no mistaking what the man had come for. Much as he might want to pass the Bill of Werewolf Rights, Diggory knew it was an uphill battle. Trying to slot his only son into the running for the husband that Princess Hermione Nott was supposedly looking for.

Hermione had been sure to steer the conversation toward what she'd come for, asking her questions in a harmless, airy voice to be positive that any eavesdroppers wouldn't take her seriously. It stood to show that passerbys were lacking in common sense. She'd graduated from Hogwarts with top marks, setting a new record within the last forty years.

Nevertheless, she knew how to play the role of an empty-headed princess when it served her.

He voiced that he expected resistance from Lucius Malfoy, a given when his only heir had been murdered by Greyback and then Cassius Parkinson, who was adamant about clinging to his bigoted views despite the fact that the rest of the world was changing, and several others. The man Hermione viewed as the largest threat was Lucius.

There would be no swaying his vote, and she knew it just as well as her father did. Parkinson wouldn't crumble under the weight of pressure, too worried about the whispers that would follow him in his circles.

Luckily, she didn't  _have_  to create a way for it to happen. Thoros Nott had slated several private meetings that morning in his wing of the castle, and by the time she returned, he would have to votes metaphorically in hand to pass the law. She longed to rush straight to Remus and tell him the good news. Harry could go with her; he had a free day today.

But it would be unwise to do so. The prospect of a leak was slim to none, but if for any reason it didn't happen, she could bear to let the older man down.

Hermione met Daphne beside Flourish and Blotts. It was their usual meeting place, and the young blonde Apparated in right on the dot.

"Your face is incredibly red," Hermione said, a bit too loudly given the way heads snapped their direction, and the glare she received. "Astoria, I assume?"

Daphne nodded. "She's a right bloody terror. They're taking her back to Hogwarts right now."

 _Oh, the Easter holiday, of course._ "What has she done?" They walked down the street, their shoulders bumping as Daphne tucked away her wand. "Daphne?"

Blowing out a harsh breath, she looked around them before quietly muttering, "Tori told Father she's fallen in love."

"Is that such a horrible thing?" Hermione and Daphne had been four years ahead of the younger Greengrass. Given that it was Astoria's last year in Hogwarts, their father had been searching to marry her off for over a year.

Daphne looked to her, his lips set in a grim line. "He's, shall I say, not acceptable to Father."

"Half-Blood?" Hermione asked. As Daphne shook her head, her eyes widened. "This is a conversation meant to be had in private." Hermione grabbed Daphne's hand and tugged her into an alley, pulling the thin chain from her shirt and looping her arm through Daph's before activating the Portkey.

They landed in Hermione's room, the curtains drawn as natural light poured into the room. Hermione waved her wand, unlacing the back of her too tight dress before letting it pool on the floor. While she changed into more comfortable clothes, jeans and a plain jumper, it did not go unnoticed that Daphne cast silencing charms on the room.

"She's met a Muggleborn in her year, and she says she wants to marry him," Daphne spoke gravely, falling onto the bed and digging her hands into her hair. "Father is in a panic, and I fear it turns violent. I think they're taking her back to school early before he does something he'll truly regret."

Hermione climbed onto the bed, crossing her legs and propping Daphne's head in her lap. As she combed through silk-like strands, Hermione said, "You think he'll harm her?"

She bit her lip. "I don't know. I think he'd cause the boy to have an accident before ever hurting my sister. Tori is furious with me."

"What could you have done to earn it?"

"Oh, nothing," Daphne grumbled, "but Father says how she cannot sully the name because I'm set to marry Theo. Of course, I can't tell her that it's not really the case as it would open up questions I can't answer."

"I'm sorry," Hermione breathed. "It must be horrible to have her blame you for her unhappiness. I'm not sure what I would do if Theo—"

Daphne waved her off. "She'll understand one day. My friendship with Theo, as horrible as it may sound, comes before my relationship with my sister. I could care less about the fruitful union it brings."

Sometimes, Hermione wondered if Father would be accepting, supportive, but she knew it was far too large of a risk to take to tell him. There were moments, like as she had debated the laws of the world with him, that she believed him to be a good father. "I don't thank you enough for what you do for Theo."

Her eyes fluttering shut as Hermione's fingers massaged her scalp, Daphne smiled. "Why would you? We're family. I'd do anything for either of you, and this ranks incredibly low on the scale of sacrifices."

"I'm glad it was you."

Daphne snorted. "Theo is smart. He knew exactly what he was doing when he approached me in my fifth year."

"Yes, but it was a well-calculated risk because you already knew." Hermione murmured. Despite the silencing charms, her eyes darted to the door every few moments. "Harry was in his rooms last night."

Daphne's slender frame shook with laughter. "I'm sure he was. It's for the best that your father never comes to your wing, isn't it? Could you imagine if he believed Theo was deflowering me before marriage?"

Hermione sniggered. "At this point, I feel he might not care. He's focused on me."

She peered up at Hermione. "I heard about the ball this weekend. How are you planning to get out of that?"

"I'm not."

"You're not?" Daphne's hand froze as it roamed over the sheets, and her eyes widened. "That's surprising."

"Father made a deal with me." Hermione shrugged. "I can't say I'm too pleased about it at all, but I've agreed to go through the motions. I have no intentions of settling on a husband. Amos Diggory wrangled me into promising his son a dance this morning."

Daphne's nose crinkled. "Diggory? I'm not sure where Cedric got his attractiveness from, but it surely wasn't his father. As far as husbands go, you could do worse. I heard that Adrian was planning to win you over."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "That would never happen. Pucey is a rampaging prick and I'd sooner hex him than kiss him." Quick to change the subject from the threat of impending marriage, Hermione asked, "Ron and Harry will pop in later. Would you like to have dinner with all of us?"

"As long as you tell Potter to quit playing footsie with Theo under the table. He  _always_  fucking kicks me by mistake."

* * *

Some days later, she stood in her chambers, listening to each bump as the party began below her feet.

Hermione stood in front of the mirror that spanned from the floor to the vaulted ceilings and smoothed her dress down. Winky was bouncing on the stool behind her, humming to herself while she laced the corset back. "Can you breathe?" Winky asked.

"Yes," Hermione replied.

Winky snapped her fingers and looked around Hermione's frame, shaking her head. "Not tight enough then!"

Hermione shrieked "Winky!" as the laces were ripped into place by tiny hands that would surely beat her in a fight should she put up one. Taking slow, shuddering breaths, she was instantly reminded of why she loathed balls. Corsets were barbaric. "That's enough."

The little elf did not agree, but she hopped off of the stool to stare at Hermione. "Princess is stunning. Princess will find a husband tonight!" she gleefully said as she clapped her hands.

It was hard, nearly impossible to rain on the house elf's parade, but Hermione shook her head. "Princess will certainly not be finding a husband tonight." She would have crouched down to speak at eye level, but the dress prohibited that motion, and a vast arrange of others. "Someday, Winky, and you'll be there."

It was enough at the moment to placate Winky and Hermione followed her out of the room. Her hair was curled, tamed by several bottles of Sleakeazy, and it framed her face rather nicely if you asked her. She hadn't inherited the messy set of curls from her mother or her father; they seemed to be all her own.

She could hear the dull roar of the party beginning downstairs, the voices climbing up from the ivory stairwell and she paused to stand in front of the row of portraits. "Go on, Winky. I'll be down soon."

Winky summoned her tiara, bowing her head as she held it out with open hands. "Winky will inform King Nott."

Hermione raised a hand to stop her before she vanished on the spot. "Would you please tell Harry and Ron as well?"

Winky nodded. "Of course, Princess."

With a loud and satisfying  _crack!_  Hermione was left alone in the corridor. The tiara was heavy in her hands, weighted down by responsibility rather than the modest display of jewels. She looked to the floor before carefully setting it atop her head.

"It's crooked, darling."

She jumped, her eyes shooting open as the portrait of her mother came to life. The corner of her lips twitched and she was laughing before she knew she had started. "It's nice to hear your voice, Mum."

Her mother's hair was pulled back in a loose chignon, the normal hairstyle that she had always worn. There were small wrinkles by her eyes, laugh lines as she preferred to call them, and she was smiling ear to ear. "I hear there's a party being hosted for you. Your father told me all about it."

"Did he also tell you the deal we made?"

"Oh," she chuckled, "I know all about that, darling. You won't give him too hard of a time, will you?"

Hermione gave a wicked smile. "I'm sure I'll cause some trouble, but I'll do my best to cause a sense of pride rather than anger."

"I admit I don't have much time before you need to make your way downstairs. I know you've been taught it's rude to keep a crowd waiting. Why are you so against marrying?" Her mother did away with the pleasantries and asked just what she'd come to ask.

Hermione would have liked for the earth to open up and swallow her whole. "I don't want to marry for anything but love, Mum."

She offered a watery smile. "I don't think that's quite the whole reason, darling. I may have been killed before you could talk, but I've watched you for twenty-one years. I know when you're lying to me."

"All things end. Some things end horrifically. There's not a man downstairs that I would trust to love and cherish me until my life reached a natural conclusion."

"Hermione, your father did not—" she broke off, her gaze darting to the side, as much as it could as she was stuck in the portrait "—I must leave you now. Have a good night, darling. Maybe talk to your father? He would understand if only you would let him."

She was left dumbfounded as her mother disappeared from the portrait altogether. Hermione straightened her tiara before she began a slow path down the corridor.

All too familiar, she recognized the sound dying from the crowd, the voices evaporating as she stood at the top of the stairs. Holding her head high, and relaxing her shoulders, she wasn't preparing for a battle, after all, she made her way down the stairs.

All eyes were on her, on her white dress that was designed to give the image of purity. It felt more like entering an auction rather than a party, but she had promised.

And Notts kept their promises.

Theo met her at the foot of the stairs, leaving Daphne to slide an arm through Hermione's. "You look beautiful," he whispered in her ear.

She grinned. "Thank you." Hermione tugged him down again so that she could speak without being overheard. "Harry looks rather fetching tonight. Though his buttons are askew, and so are yours. You should really be more careful in your cupboard rendezvous."

She smiled and waved as the crowd drank in the sight of them while Theo spluttered.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy was the first one to tell her she looked stunning, and that was all she remembered. The rest of them, mainly the parents of men who would like nothing more than to buy her, followed in rapid succession. Hermione smiled, offered her hand for them to kiss even though it felt slimy and she wanted nothing more than to escape to the loo and wash her hands.

Theo was across the hall, swinging Daphne in a quick dance that was so riveting that it pulled some of the attention off of Hermione.

Her father watched from his vantage point, arching an eyebrow whenever her lip would curl back in disgust at whatever had been said.

 _Well,_ she thought flippantly,  _if my mouth doesn't say it, my face will._

By the time she had escaped the mass of compliments:  _Oh, your hair looks marvellous. I had no idea it could look like that. The dress looks splendid, clearly shows off your curves._

The compliments geared more toward her curves had been given by Adrian Pucey, who had a familiar look in his eye. She didn't like it one bit and she quickly got away from him.

She'd hopped from one evil directly into another. Pansy Parkinson mulled around the edge of the room, sipping her champagne. "Have you finally decided that your hair shouldn't look like a bird's nest?"

Hermione didn't care for the insults, and at this point, they only rolled off her back. Royal titles didn't prevent harassment. If anything, they encouraged teasing. She took a small sip of her glass, casting a look over her shoulder. At the far corner of the room, she found just what she was looking for.

"Having trouble finding a husband, Parkinson? It looks like your father is speaking with Goyle. Of course, he talked to my father already," she hid the curve of her lips behind her glass, "but you're more than welcome to have him."

Pansy's nostrils flared as her eyes found her father. "Oh, Merlin  _no_."

She was left alone once more as she watched the mingling crowd, the flowing couples as they took over the floor.

"You look lonely," Pucey stepped from behind her, his shoulder bumping hers.

Her shoulders tensed, but she didn't look back. "I'm not."

"Care to dance?" His hand found her elbow, making it clear it had not been a request.

"Not in particular," she growled and ripped away from him. "I'd greatly appreciate it if you would keep your hands off of me." Hermione looked up, her shoulders deflating as she remembered her father would be watching her. She heaved a sigh as she turned to Adrian. "One dance, keep your hands above my waist or I'll gut you."

He smirked. "That's no way to talk to a future husband."

She bit down a heated insult and let him lead her into the floor. He took her hand, guiding her into a slow start as his other hand found her waist. "Keep sliding that hand down and I will break your nose." She snarled and placed his hand back in her waist.

Surely Father would understand if she were being groped.

The surrounding couples slowly, but surely made way for them, hovering on the edge of the room. It was another reason to hate parties and the like, it was a bloody publicity stunt as soon as she agreed to dance with anyone at all.

Unfortunately, it also gave way for the spectacle that she caused. Even though she had warned him, and even moved his straying hand, Pucey's hand slid down to squeeze her bum.

And she had warned him, hadn't she? It was as good as a promise.

Hermione reared back without a second though. Adrian's face drained of colour just before she struck him, his nose crunching beneath the force of the blow. "I fucking told you not to grope me." She snarled.

He grabbed his nose, crimson already coating his fingers.

A hard hand came down on her shoulder and she knew without looking that it was her father. "He shouldn't have grabbed me."

He did not voice his agreement, quite the opposite with the crowd they were in front of. Were he not a collected man, he would have been shaking from anger. "Apologise,"

An order, not a request.

Hermione turned to face her father, standing with her feet apart, just as she'd been taught in the duelling classes she'd attended. Hermione would have rather had had her wand in her hand, but it went without saying that he would wipe the floor with her if it came to a duel.

"Absolutely not," She replied in an unwavering breath. "He had no right to touch me as he did."

There were mutterings behind her from Pucey that he would never lay a hand on the princess.

Father's nostrils flared. "We can discuss that," he hadn't seen it, clearly "but it's an embarrassment to this family for you to resort to such barbaric,  _Muggle_  techniques."

"Shall I duel then, Father? I have no objection to a proper duel; just let me get out of this dress. In fact," she hedged, her voice high and tight, "I'd marry any man here who could win."

Evidently, he'd had enough. "Adrian Pucey approached you for a dance in the interest of courting you." Father leaned down to whisper, "He's a model Pureblood, Hermione. Please don't do this right now. I may not have seen his actions, but they will be taken care of."

Oh, she understood. It would be taken care of quietly, and in public, she would be painted as a brute. It was akin to a bucket of ice water being dumped over her head and she shook her head. How could this man, her father, and an icon thousands looked to for guidance, brush this off?

"I will not apologize when I have nothing to apologize for. I will not allow a man to believe that he can treat me crudely and not be publicly reprimanded. It's unjust and I will not stand for it." Hermione's voice had climbed, carrying across the room. "Model Pureblood or not, I am not a prize for you to auction off."

Theo stared at her, wide-eyed and horrified, as she made a public outburst that she'd never done before. This was different. After this, she knew that her father would hear constantly that no proper wizard wanted an insubordinate witch as a wife.

"Stop," Theo mouthed and he moved forward. Daphne caught him, shaking her head as she moved so no one could see her nails digging into his forearm.

She was not surprised by the words that left their father's mouth, that she had embarrassed tradition and her family.

Hermione turned on heel and fled the hall.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been slow going, but I think you're going to really like chapter four. It's a little slow, but once the plot starts, it really never stops.
> 
> Next Chapter:
> 
> She whipped her wand through the air, halfway through the curse, but there was no time. He lunged for her, a fierce howl tearing through the night that seeped into her bones.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta love to mcal. Alpha love to mykesprit. All remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> Chapter Warning: attempting assault, and threats of sexual assault in this chapter.

 

* * *

Hermione flew up the stairs, racing past Theo and Daphne before either of them could stop her.  _Get out, get out, get out._ Portraits stared down at her, most of her ancestors sneering down at her. The carpeted corridor was nearly silent below her hurried footsteps.

She'd done her duty. She'd come. She'd fullilled her end of their deal, yet she'd felt the nausea plastered all over his face. His anger was rarely voiced out loud, but she wondered if he had only been moments from tearing her down in front of the top circles of society.

Her mother's portrait was empty as she sprinted by, her dress dragging along the lush carpets as she scarcely thought it necessary to pick up the hem. What did she care anyway? It was a grossly expensive dress that would never be worn again; not when she wasn't meant to wear the same dress more than once. It was all ridiculous and yet—

It was her life.  _All_  of it. And there was no escape.

She loved her family, even her father. Was it so much to want to love a husband?

Of course she knew it wasn't how things were done, but something  _had_  to give. She wanted more out of life than entertaining wealthy socialites over tea time. Hermione wanted,  _needed,_  to make a difference. There were so many things in the world that she could barely grasp now from being holed up in her ancestral home.

She rushed into her room, pulling her wand from its hiding place between her breasts. Hermione ought to have unlaced the dress by magic, and she would have, had Winky not put a charm on it that prevented her to do just as much. She growled beneath her breath. " _Accio_ cloak," she hissed.

Throwing the black fabric around her shoulders, Hermione's head snapped up just as footsteps sounded outside her door. Oh, that just wouldn't do. She wanted to be alone with her thoughts while she considered her next move; what exactly she would say when she came face to face with  _Thoros Nott_  once more.

Hermione traced the spell movement with a flourish, hiding herself under a Disillusionment Charm just as her door burst open. It was only Harry, but still...

She slipped right past Harry as he looked her room over, and she brushed his hand. He looked right at her, giving a slight nod of his head.

She hurried through the corridors, passing Ron who was clutching a goblet. "Hermione?" he called out.

She froze, giving a quiet sigh of relief when she realised he hadn't noticed her. He was only calling out for her.

Hermione made her way to the exit on the second floor, and she pushed the door open with her palm flat against the glass pane. It was cool to the touch as she paused at the stop of the stone steps that would lead to the courtyard, where she would pass through a gate and steal away into the forest.

The April night air was chilly around her. She pulled her cloak closer as she took two steps at a time. Craning her head back, she stared at the sky. A full moon lit the sky and she wondered how Remus was, if he'd locked himself in his cage this time.

And then she wondered if he would spend the rest of his life caging himself. If she had thoroughly fucked any chance of him being able to enjoy his life after she had gone against her father.

"Fuck," she whispered, sliding her fingers along the lock of the aged iron gate when she came to it. The courtyard was brightly lit by the castle behind her, the party carrying on within its walls. Hermione made her way through dismantling the locking charm, taking a few ties before she pushed the gate open.

Hermione made her way through the forest and once she was deep enough that she could not be seen, she murmured: " _Finite_ ,"

It was quiet, save for the wind blowing through the leaves in the trees overhead. She silently scolded herself for not bringing something as simple as a book to pass the time, but she supposed she was meant to be thinking. She carefully made her way down the decline, transfiguring her heels into more appropriate footwear.

Down by a winding creek there was a Weeping Willow she frequented as a child. Should anyone come to look for her, it was the first place they would look. She bit her lip. Her father wouldn't come in search for her, not when he could send someone else. Theo would know where to find her, and she wouldn't mind if he were with her.

At least he knew when to stop talking, unlike Harry or Ron.

Hermione took in her reflection as she lifted the tiara from her head. She stared at it, her chest tight. Was there anything she could have done different? Certainly. She could have politely excused herself from the dance. She could have gone to Theo as she was meant to.

There were several things she  _could_ have changed, but she was debating whether or not she should have listened to the obedience lessons she had been taught.

The internal debate was cut short by a low snarl behind her and a nipping at her heels.

She froze, clenching the tirara so tightly that a diamond sliced her finger. She hadn't heard twigs snapping, nor had she seen anything out of her peripheral. _It was an animal_ , she thought as a tongue traced her heel, tracing her calf. Surely it would already have noticed she was more than aware, but she didn't make a sudden movement for her wand.

Hermione gasped, though, when something slammed against her spine, knocking her into the shallow end of the river on her stomach. "Oh, Merlin," she hissed. Pain laced through her ankle, shooting up her leg. The ankle was sprained, and she was certain she wouldn't be able to run, or even walk. Would she even be able to crawl up the embankment?

She strained for her vine wand floating near a lily pad on the surface of the river. Gripping it in her hand, she caught the sight of movement in the reflection of the water, and her heart stopped in her chest.

It was a werewolf, his coat a dark mahogany color and his eyes were yellow as they stared back at her. A paw came down at the base of her spine, beginning to stroke and she shuddered.

_Pretty thing._

There was not nearly enough research regarding Lycanthropy and Remus didn't often speak of it. It defied all logic, yet she  _knew_  it had to be the voice of the wolf sounding in her mind. "Get away from me," she growled, and he pressed her into the water at the sound.

_Don't try to fight me. You'll lose._

She couldn't stand the snarling that was grating at her ear. Hermione cast a wordless hex right over her head, scrambling to at least face him. "Stay back," she hissed, the water splashing against her.

His teeth were bared as his mouth curled back. Claws that dug into the earth sent her heart into uneven palpitations and she didn't even have time to scold herself for taking off in the middle of the night on a full moon.

She scrambled backward, dragging herself onto the shoreline and the brush there. Hermione sucked in a breath, her hands trembling as she stared down a feral werewolf. If she thought about what could happen, she wouldn't get out of there, not when this wolf was fixing her with a gaze that screamed of zero control over the wolf.

Or, even more frightening, the possibility that this was a man who didn't care to have control over the wolf.

She whipped her wand through the air, halfway through the curse, but there was no time. He lunged for her, a fierce howl tearing through the night that seeped into her bones.

He slammed her into the hard earth, the pebbles of the river floor digging into the divots of her spine as he captured her wand in his jowls. She watched in terror as it snapped in half. The little bit of wandless magic she could do wouldn't be enough to fend off a werewolf.

She shuddered, her eyes squeezing shut as her head fell to the side. Hermione thrashed, attempting to kick him off of her, but it's of little use with he snapped his teeth at her face, his breath ghosting over her face, and she shrunk away from him.

His claws slid against the straps of her dress, ripping them away from her as he stared down at her unforgivingly. Her head fell back as white hot pain spread through her shoulder, and she knew he'd sliced the skin open.

She stared at the castle, her voice bottled up in her chest so she couldn't even scream. No one would think of the howling as a werewolf, they wouldn't make a connection at all. They were never sighted near—

How had the wards come down? She needed to get back to everyone. If there was a chink in the metaphorical armor, there was sure to be more problems than just one werewolf.

In a moment that was surely not her brightest, Hermione reared back and punched the werewolf above her in the snout.

He snarled, his head dipping down as his nose skimmed the tops of her breasts, using one claw to tear her dress away from them.  _You'll make a good whore._

Salty tears clouded her vision and she whimpered while wracking her brain for a way out of this.

_You'll look so good swollen with pups, won't you?_

Hermione sobbed, "No, get away from me!" And she knew that she was going to raped and impregnated by a werewolf and stolen away from her home. It wouldn't last, she reminded herself. Morning would come and she would stand a far better chance of fighting of a man rather than a wolf.

His attention left her as he raised his head, lupine yellow eyes narrowing at a distant rustling.

She grabbed the chance while she had it. Fumbling, she rushed to climb out from under him. It was of little use as he pinned her with his own body, a foreign protrusion rutting against her lower back. "Get off," she begged.

A white blur raced through the trees, and the weight that had suddenly been on her back was missing. Hermione lifted herself to her knees, her eyes catching the sight of her bloodied palms as her eyes widened as the sight in front of her.

There was a white wolf, his mouth open in a fierce snarl standing with his tail to her. He dug at the ground, his back arching as he snapped at the wolf that had attacked her.

Hermione crawled up the embankment, keeping one eye on the conflict in front of her. Soaked to the bone, she whined gently as she put too much pressure on her already swollen ankle. There would be no getting to the castle, and she was resigned to watch the horror play out in front of her. Gasping for breath, she dug around inside her cloak, heating the familiar clinking of vials that she normally gave Remus with his Wolfsbane.

It was incredibly fortunate that he had not taken the healing potions this month, and that he'd had his own prepared.

She tipped two of the vials to her lips, greedily swallowing each.

The confrontation did not last long.

She watched with bated breath as the white wolf lunged forward, rolling with her attacker across the forest floor. There was a snapping of jaws, a sickening tear that had to be flesh, and a low whimper.

The white wolf stepped away, not so much as casting a second glance towards her would be rapist before he trotted over to her.

Hermione's eyes shot open at the sight of him, his pristine white coat matted with blood, and she scurried backwards. "What do you want?" she asked.

She was puzzled when no voice echoed in her mind once more. He neared her, gently nudging her swollen ankle with his head. Despite knowing she shouldn't relax, not given what's just happened, Hermione's shoulders dropped as he came to sit beside her. He peeled away the swollen scraps of lace that had been torn from her dress, and lapped her wounds.

"Thank you." Her lip trembled as she laid her hands in her lap. "You saved my life. I hope that you didn't do so to be able to kill me yourself."

But still no response came. Hermione lifted her hand, slowly as she could as she showed it to him, and laid it just behind his ear. He growled and glared at her, but she didn't rip away from him. Fresh blood dripped from the wound.

"Can I look at it? I can help you, but we can't stay here. My father will send someone to look for me eventually." Hermione showed him the two last vials she had stowed away in her cloak, and he leaned forward to sniff them. "Let me repay you for helping me."

He stood and led her along the creek, looking back often as she limped along. The potion had numbed some of the pain, but it was a weak replacement for an actual healer. He led her to a small cave that posed as an inlet of the cliff in the forest.

She knew that she ought to have been afraid, but that would have been hypocrisy. She wasn't afraid of all werewolves, just the one that had viciously attacked her.

There was a small bundle of sticks, and a scrap that had once belonged to a quilted blanket. The wolf sat beside them, staring at her as his head tilted.

"Wait here," she whispered, pulling her cloak and wrapping it around him after tearing a piece from it as she leaned down. "I'll be right back, okay?"

There was a barely perceptible nod.

Hermione hobbled to the creek only twenty feet away, dampening the cloth in her hands. He was waiting in the same exact place she returned. Kneeling in front of him, she uncapped the vials and demonstrated for him to tilt his head back.

He made a foul face as he swallowed the first.

"I know," she laughed, "it's bloody awful, isn't it? One more. Chin up." Hermione gave the remaining vial, setting it to the stone floor and he watched it roll away. "Please stay still. I'm going to clean the wound and I'd hate to hurt you anymore that you already are."

He gave a low whine and settled down on his paws. Laying his chin on her legs that were crossed below her dress, Hermione leaned forward to clean the gash just behind his ear.

"Oh," she murmured, bile rising in her throat, "he nearly tore your ear off. I can bring you more potions tomorrow as soon as I can sneak away. I'm certain that my father will be out of his wits, and insist I say inside, but I've snuck out under worse conditions." Hermione paused. "Can you understand me at all? The other wolf could speak in my mind."

Nothing. No answer beyond his head nuzzling her belly.

"You're incredibly affectionate." Hermione smiled as she finished cleaning the wound. "I'd like to clean your face up a bit. Do you mind?"

He sat up once more, looking entirely unimpressed as she cleaned his bloodied fur. Hermione had to make another trip to the stream to be able to completely clean his face, but he waited in patient silence.

Eventually, exhaustion threatened to claim her, and she laid at the floor at the cave, seemingly unable to leave. "I should go home." she murmured as he curled up beside her, tucking his tail around his frame.

He whined in protest.

She slid her hand across his soft fur, petting him until all she could hear was soft snores. Grinning to herself, she realised that the best thing to do was to go home, but her curiosity won out. She wanted to know who this man was come morning, and why he had saved her.

She tugged the cloak over her body while resting her arm across his body until sleep rushed up to take her.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter:
> 
> Her eyes settled on the headlines immediately.
> 
> Princess Hermione Nott Still Defends Werewolves Following Attack Outside Of Her Home.
> 
> Close sources say the princess clearly cannot be trusted to make decisions of her own.
> 
> The attack followed a debable occurring during an event hosted in her honor.
> 
> Former Gryffindor is believed to be lying about the death of werewolf recently identified as Hogwarts alumni from the same year as the princess. A possible lover's quarrel gone wrong, perhaps?
> 
> Princess Hermione Nott to stand before Wizengamot—against King Nott's express requests—and appeal for rights for Werewolves.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta love to mcal. All remaining mistakes are my own.

 

* * *

"Your father was wrong to treat her that way," Harry murmured as he stood close to Theo. He linked their fingers together while they swayed to the gentle lull of the radio in Theo's chambers, knowing that this was not a conversation his better half wanted to have at all.  _Still…_ "Theo—"

Theo exhaled a harsh breath, pulling Harry to his chest, resting his chin atop his head. "When I invited you back to my chambers, this wasn't the conversation I had in mind."

Harry snorted. "Yes, because you were rather looking forward to doing  _other_ things with your mouth, weren't you?"

He rolled his eyes. "Or yours," Theo quietly remarked, brushing the corner of Harry's mouth with his thumb. "I don't agree with most of the things Father says, or does for that matter, but they made a deal. He would help with the Department of Magical Creatures if she would just listen for once."

The darker haired man shook his head. "And she did, Theo. Whether your father saw Pucey grope her, he should have taken her side regardless. Exactly what kind of father is he if he doesn't?"

Theo raised an eyebrow. "This night isn't going my way at all."

Commotion sounded from the corridor, and Theo didn't have time to hide Harry before his door flew open. Daphne's hair was frizzy at the ends, her feet bare, and she looked panicked. "You need to hide right now!" She waved her hands toward Harry. "The King is coming this way now, and there's no stopping him. Winky distracted him so I could get down here."

Harry cast a wandless Disillusionment charm on himself, squeezing himself into the wardrobe without another word.

"Have you any idea what he wants?"

Daphne shook her head. "Not a single idea, but he's furious."

"And now he'll find you in my chamber at four o'clock in the morning." Theo said dryly. His father's old fashioned ways would not bode well if he found his son's intended in such a state.

Daphne bit her lip, internally debating with herself. "Somehow, I don't think he's going to be focused on the subject of my purity." She slid closer to Theo, pressing her palms to his chest, staring up at him. "Did Hermione ever come back?"

"No," Theo said, "not to my knowledge. I assumed she would come back in the morning." It was a foolish train of thought. Hermione didn't have any friends that weren't already visiting the castle.

She wouldn't go to the Burrow without Ron or Harry.

His eyes suddenly widened, his heart painfully constricting in his chest.  _If_ something was wrong, he would know, wouldn't he? It wasn't the first time his rebellious younger sister had taken off.

The door burst open, the heavy oak shattering the mirror behind it. As Daphne had stated, his father didn't care as she jumped away from Theo. "Did she tell you where she was going?" Nott Sr growled, and for the first time, his wand vibrating in his trembling hand. "Theodore!" he roared.

"Hermione left without saying anything to anyone, Father." Theo replied. He eyed the wardrobe from the corner of his eye. "We looked for her, but she wasn't in the castle after the ball."

Aurors were standing in the corridor, a grim look on each face. "We have a situation." Nott Sr began, turning to face the aurors. "I want you to search every inch of that forest. Don't even think of coming back without my daughter."

"What's happened?" Daphne's voice was a weak whisper, and she'd covered her mouth with her palm. Shaking beside him like a leaf, Theo slid an arm around her. "Sir?"

"A werewolf was found dead in the forest outside of the castle. His throat was ripped out. Hermione's wand was found snapped and her tiara was recovered as well, covered in blood." His father was not a man of many words in front of Theo. He instilled the embodiment of what it meant to be saddled with the responsibility of a king.

He'd never been as stoic around Hermione, though, or in matters concerning her for that matter.

Theo expected Harry to jump out of the closet, wand already drawn, but by a stroke of luck, he stayed bloody well put. "I'm going into the forest." Theo said, leaving no room for debate.

His father shook his head. "If there are other werewolves, and I'm killed, you need to —"

"She's my sister. I'm going into the forest, and you'll find yourself at the end of my wand if you try to stop me," Theo hissed. "Stay in the castle."

His father sighed, and Theo didn't know if it was exhaustion or irritation. "The wards have been reworked. If she Apparates into the castle, she'll land in the throne room, as will anyone else."

* * *

Hermione was woken by the shouting and a soft mass moving against her side. Suddenly remembering where she was by the hard earth against her back and the sensation of fur against her knuckles, she shot up. Holding a finger to her lips, she shushed the white wolf, her eyes growing impossibly wide.

"You must stay quiet. They're looking for me. They must have found the werewolf you killed."

He gave a subtle nod, rubbing his snout against her hand.

"Princess Hermione!" She froze at the familiar voice of Tonks, and she realised the Aurors had been called. Of course they had; if a werewolf was found so close to the castle…

It was almost enough to make her groan out loud… She should have never let herself fall asleep in the cave. Of course they would presume her missing, or worse still,  _dead_. Father would burn the forest to the ground to find her. Left with only one option, but not sure how to pull it off without a wand, she crawled to her knees before she stood.

"No matter what you hear, stay where you are." Hermione whispered, smoothing a hand over his head. "If they find you, they'll kill you. After tonight, most witches and wizards won't understand you've saved my life. I'll come back the second I can. Do you understand?"

He gave a low whine as he stared at his paws.

In a sudden burst of bold gratitude, Hermione dropped a kiss to the top of his head, still unsure of why  _this_  werewolf had saved her life, instead of attempting to maul her. Clearly, it must have been by the miracle of Wolfsbane, but why would any wizard venture so close?

She slid along the wall, creeping into a position where she could see out of the cave's mouth.

"Hermione!"

"Harry," she hissed. Hermione crept forward, guilt twisted her insides as his shoulders sagged in relief. "I'm okay," she reassured him quickly. "But I need your wand. And I need you to trust me."

He blinked. "Of course I trust you. My wand won't work for you though. All it would do is alert the Ministry that it's fallen into possibly wrong hands."

She chewed her bottom lip, looking over her shoulder. Half afraid the wolf would follow her, his protective streak shining through, she looked to Harry again. "I need you to cast a Notice - Me - Not charm on this cave right now before anyone comes any closer."

His eyebrows shot into his hairline. "What?"

"I know about the dead werewolf, but it wasn't me who killed him."

He took a quick step forward, craning his neck to look into the cave. "Then who did? I'm sure your father would reward them handsomely… The throat was ripped out..." Harry seemed to realise as he trailed off. "Another one?"

She nodded. "He saved my life, Harry. He slept beside me for nearly the entire night. Please,  _please_ don't let anyone discover him. They would execute him immediately just for existing."

Her best friend took a long breath, glancing behind him before he raised his wand. "I suggest you don't mention this when I question you."

"I understand."

* * *

Theo wrapped her into a tight hug as they landed in the throne room. She didn't miss the look he gave Harry, the awe, or the blisteringly obvious love that would be mistaken for something else. "Merlin, you look awful." His voice was strained and low, meant for her ears only.

He pulled broken twigs from her hair, his calloused thumb brushing the long cut spanning across her cheek. "I'm so fucking glad you're alive."

Hermione offered a lopsided smile. "Come now, Theo. It's going to take more than a feral werewolf to do me in, you know."

He clutched her to him, smoothing a hand down her back. "Your wand was snapped. Not that I'm unhappy to see you upright, but by all accounts, you shouldn't have survived that encounter."

Their father's stare settled upon them, and he cleared his throat before Hermione could say anything. "Are you injured?"

Her brother stepped away from her, but his hand found hers, threading their fingers together. Hermione nodded. "My ankle is either badly sprained, or broken, but I took a pain potion that I kept in my cloak before I fell unconscious."

He might have believed her in regards to the potion, but a blind man could have seen his suspicions. Still, the room was filled with Aurors, and security wizards, and he was unlikely to ask for any information in front of an audience.

Hermione rushed for her father, slipping her arms around his middle as she pressed her cheek to his robes. "I'm sorry for running away."

He patted her back before rubbing soothing circles over her shoulder. "If anyone should apologise, it's I. Now, Aurors Potter and Weasley are going to take you into the drawing room, and discuss tonight's events." Father said clearly, and he steered her toward her two friends. "We thought you would be most comfortable with them."

Hermione walked between the two men, bumping shoulders with Ron as she led them into the drawing room. "Shut the door," she whispered, and Harry did as she asked.

Harry cast a silencing charm as she took a seat on the sofa, shrugging out of her tattered cloak. She should have left it with the wolf, knowing that he hardly had anything comfortable to lay on, and he would human once more in under an hour. She said nothing else as she stared over her shoulder and out the window; she wanted to wait for the morning rays to meet the glass pane.

"Hermione," Ron began, clasping his hands together. "Let's start with the dead werewolf, yeah?" She wondered if Harry had told him that there was another wolf, one not so feral. "Did he attack you?"

Memories quickly surfaced of his nose pressing to her calves, and to the back of her skirt, just under her arse. Swallowing hard, Hermione nodded. "Yes. I was standing at the edge of the river when he knocked me into the water. He climbed on top of me," she said quietly, toying with the tulle of her ruined dress. "I could hear him, his wolf I mean. I heard him speaking inside my head. He told me that he would impregnate me, and…" Hermione trailed off.

It seemed to only strike her just then how close she had been to a grisly fate. Perhaps she would have gotten away by the morning, but if she  _hadn't_  been saved, she might have been raped, and—

Her cries began softly, her shoulders shaking slightly at first. Then, much like a damn breaking, Hermione began to sob in earnest, her body trembling as she struggled to breathe. "Oh, Merlin," she breathed.

Ron moved from his seat, the sofa cushion dipping below his weight as he wrapped one strong arm around her. "Come here," he murmured gently and pulled her into the curve of his body. "You're safe. He's dead and he's never going to touch you again." Ron reassured her, rubbing slow and steady circles down her back.

Harry was watching her closely, his elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward. "Hermione?"

She looked up, wiping hot tears from her face. "Okay. Yes, I can continue."

"Mate, I'm not sure," Ron began, but his mouth snapped shut as he got an elbow jab in the ribs.

"Who killed the wolf? Was your wand snapped before or after?" Harry's voice was level, and she thought it strange when it was normally him to overreact. "Can you remember for us?" Harry nodded, and she knew that lying about the second wolf was never going to work.

"There was another werewolf, a black one ," she lied, her voice unwavering as Ron froze beside her. "The wolf was on top of me, and I'm certain he was about to rape me in the middle of the forest. Another wolf tackled him, and in the end ripped his throat out in front of me. I tried to get away, but I was in no shape to make it back to the castle.

"There were pain potions in my cloak, and I just...I don't remember anything after that. He was gone." Her lie was flimsy at best. While she could produce the memory of being saved, she wasn't sure how she would hide the one of following another werewolf to the cave in the forest that came immediately after. "I would have died without him."

Harry sighed. "Would this be a memory you're able to show us?"

Only she noticed the slight nod that he gave her; she heard the message loud and clear:  _I'll take care of everything else._

But there was still a problem. Hermione weakly smiled. "I lied a bit. The wolf to save me was pure white. I just don't want him to be hunted. You understand, don't you?"

He nodded again. "I'll speak with Kingsley this morning. It can be redacted, but off the record, I'm not so sure your father won't find out anyway."

She could fix that.

* * *

Theo didn't believe her for even a moment. He watched her closely, asking where she was going if she left the safety of the castle. "Hermione?" he called from down the corridor. "I think you should see this." He met her halfway in the passage, handing a folded copy of the Daily Prophet.

Her eyes settled on the headlines immediately.

_Princess Hermione Nott Still Defends Werewolves Following Attack Outside Of Her Home._

_Close sources say the princess clearly cannot be trusted to make decisions of her own._

_The attack followed a debable occurring during an event hosted in her honor._

_Former Gryffindor is believed to be lying about the death of werewolf recently identified as Hogwarts alumni from the same year as the princess. A possible lover's quarrel gone wrong, perhaps?_

_Princess Hermione Nott to stand before Wizengamot—against King Nott's express requests—and appeal for rights for Werewolves._

Hermione set the offending paper on fire while still in her hand before turning away from her older brother. "And do  _you_  think I'm lying, Theo?"

He hesitated. "I think you're hiding something. You can—"

"Tell you anything?" she cut him off. "Of course I know that. I have nothing to say. One attack shouldn't set the world back from making progress." Hermione was still furious at the headlines she'd been met with the morning after the attack.

Her father would not help the Department of Magical Creatures. He was now actively advocating for harsher legislation on the registering of lesser beings. Hermione had always understood, and accepted that she could not go against the crown when it came to things like this.

However, the times were changing. Or maybe it was only her who had finally changed. As if she'd been asleep, and now she was awake.

"Watch for the paper tomorrow." Hermione told Theo. "I'm meeting with Harry and Remus for lunch. Or would you like to come along since all werewolves must want to get me beneath them? Merlin, you must be  _terrified_ for Harry."

Theo grabbed her by the arms, pushing her to the wall. "Don't," he warned. "You're hiding something from me, Hermione. You're a fool to believe I won't find out what it is. Father is right to keep you here. I have half a mind to keep you locked up while he's away."

She raised her chin. "Try it, Theo. House elves will find you strung up by your bollocks if you do."

Her brother let her go without another objection, though he sighed, and she thought she  _should_  have felt guilty for lying to him. She'd never kept secrets from him before, but the chance of him reporting anything to their father for her safety was too great a risk.

Hermione made her way through the castle corridors, dragging her fingers along the ancient walls as she hurried down the steps. She stubbed her toe in the same place she always did, normal enough, even if she regularly checked behind her to see if she was being followed this time. Whether she was worried it might be Theo, or even Winky, she wasn't sure.

Letting herself into her potions lab, Hermione gathered the three batches of Wolfsbane. She had stayed over well into the night throughout the previous two weeks, thanks to her father keeping everyone in the castle in line when it came to keeping Hermione inside the walls. So she'd had nothing but time to brew Remus' next batch, and she'd brewed two extra as well, knowing that her father would be visiting France.

While she wasn't meant to be allowed out of the castle, it wouldn't be hard to slip away. Theo hardly took their father seriously, as much as he threatened that he should, and Hermione was the best witch out of her year.

If she wanted out of her home, no one was going to stop her. As far as Theo knew, she would be with her dear best friend, a trained Auror. Of course, she would need to deal with the scolding she would be on the receiving end of when Theo learned that she was, in fact, not visiting with Harry at all. She would leave Remus his potions, and then she would make a trek into the forest under Harry's invisibility cloak.

Which he didn't know that she had, but he'd left it in Theo's chambers the last time he'd stayed the night.

Hermione didn't come across her older brother in the corridors as she made her way to her own bedroom. She shrunk the folded blankets that she'd left at the foot of the bed, placing them inside of her beaded bag. In a much smaller, violet drawstring bag, galleons jingled inside. She had no idea who the mysterious man was, or if he would be at the cave at all. She doubted she would come across him anytime soon, but she held out on the hope that he would revisit the cave and see what she had left him.

She had no choice but to make her way down to the floo positioned on the bottom floor. Anti-Apparition wards had been raised much to her ire, and she was unable to dismantle them without her father knowing on the spot.

Her trainers squeaked against the linoleum, earning a dirty look from Winky. "Princess shouldn't be wearing muggle fashions," she said loudly as Hermione stepped into the floo.

Grabbing a handful of floo powder, Hermione grinned and struck a pose. "Yet they're so comfortable, as are my jeans."

Winky hit herself in the face with her broom, wailing, "Princess must—"

Hermione was thankful to have vanished on the spot after calling out, "Remus Lupin's house!"

* * *

She came crashing through the fireplace, and it was a wise move to have cast a cushioning charm on the potions in her bag. Hermione coughed, not looking at where she was going at all. Slipping on a stray patch of floo powder, she busted her arse and the next thing she saw was the ceiling.

Remus' worried face came into focus quickly after. "Hermione? You scared me. I had no idea you were coming by."

Translation:  _Does your bigoted father know you're here?_

"I'm sorry." Hermione winced as she took his hand, and he pulled her to her feet. "My father left for France late last night, and this will be one of the only chances I have to leave the house. I wanted to bring this month's batch, even though it's ahead of schedule." She reached into her bag, pulling the second bag, this one padded, and tied with twine at the top. "How are you?"

He looked weary, the lines of his face more pronounced and Remus appeared to have not slept in days. "I don't like to venture outside of the house much these days."

"I'm so sorry." Hermione stared at her feet, overcome with shame by what he must have been going through already before her father launched a smear campaign against Lycanthropy. "My father had just agreed to help the Department of Magical Creatures before this happened. Your life could have been so much different if I just haven't gone outside that night. It was a full moon. I knew that. What was I thinking?"

Remus disagreed with a frown. "This isn't your fault, and I don't blame your father either. In fact, I think you should really leave, but I know you'll never listen to me."

She opened and closed her mouth, her eyes burning as she stared up at him. Hermione's hand curled into small fists. "You aren't dangerous. You would never hurt me."

"Werewolves are dangerous," Remus said roughly, his eyes flashing yellow. "If you had any sense of self preservation, you  _would_ be scared, Hermione."

"Would you rather I leave then?" There was no layer or guilt, or animosity. Hermione wasn't interested in causing him discomfort if he'd rather her leave. "If it's alright for me to stay, I promise I won't take up much of your time. I just have a question that you're best suited to answer."

He dragged both hands down his face before settling into one of the only chairs he had. The old kitchen chair was rickety, seemingly about to fall apart below him. The tweed jacket he wore was one he'd worn during his time as her professor, and Hermione took in the frayed strands of it, the holes that had been awkwardly patched, and the way it was beginning to swallow him.

"Have a seat, Hermione." Remus motioned to his second, and only other, chair. "What's your question?"

Hermione gnawed her lip before settling on how to word it. "Did Harry tell you how Marcus Flint, the werewolf who attacked me,"

He nodded at the name. "I've read the papers."

She shook her head. "Did Harry tell you how he died? He's had it redacted, but it's relevant to my question."

The corners of his lips twitched, dragging them down. "No," he said slowly. "Harry and I are close, but he wouldn't tell me anything about redactions performed by the DMLE."

She sucked in a breath. "There was another werewolf."

Remus' eyes hardened as they landed on her, and his hand clenched the edge of the table. "There was another?" he echoed.

Hermione chose her next words as carefully as she could. "He tackled Flint, and ripped his throat out. He led me to a cave after where he allowed me to tend to his wounds. He… he licked my wounds that were bleeding."

His eyes were as wide as saucers as he stared at her in disbelief. "And he was calm?"

"Yes," she nodded. "He curled into my side when I fell asleep. I wanted to see who he was in the morning."

"But you didn't."

"No, the Aurors were in the forest around four o'clock that morning. I never got the chance. But, Remus, I'm almost certain that he hadn't taken Wolfsbane before the full moon, but it's only a theory. Before you were able to take the potion, could your wolf speak to others through their minds?"

If it were possible, Remus froze. He'd already been completely still, but now… "No," he murmured. "During a full moon without a potion, I am feral, and my thoughts are too scattered to communicate."

Then she was correct in her assumptions, but that still brought her back to not knowing anything at all. "I could hear Flint in my head. I tried to talk to the other wolf, but sometimes he would only nod his head. I'm still not sure if he ever understood me."

Remus sat there in silence, hesitating, for several seconds that seemed to tick by agonisingly slowly. "He was protective of you?"

"I would say so. Do you know what this means?"

Remus gave a terse laugh. "I'm hoping that I'm wrong, but the only reasoning to possibly make sense is that the wolf believes you're his mate. That would do it. Wolfsbane or not, he would never kill you. If I'm correct, you should be grateful he didn't claim you."

Hermione didn't ask him to explain the finer mechanics of werewolf mating. Her imagination was enough. She rose from the table. "I should go back before Theo realises I wasn't meeting you and Harry for lunch."

Remus chuckled. "Please don't get into too much trouble. Thank you for the Wolfsbane. And Hermione?" he called out before she stepped into the floo. "It would be wise not to search for the wolf again, even if he did save you. King Nott is correct, though his entire beliefs are a bit skewed, to protect his child in whatever way he can."

"I won't search for him." Hermione had lied just then, something she was, unfortunately, beginning to grow accustomed to. She vanished, calling out her home, and she wondered if she would have time to hurry into the forest that night.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, we're here. It's strange when I post these chapters because I'm ten ahead, and I've usually forgotten what I'm about to post.
> 
> Next chapter preview:
> 
> "It's too dangerous to stand in front of the Wizengamot." Daphne argued, but her voice died in her throat as the bedroom door was slammed open, splintering as it did so.
> 
> Hermione whirled on her brother, wide eyed and furious as she snapped, "You couldn't have knocked?"
> 
> Theo's face was drained of colour, and his gaze flickered from his sister to his fiance. " We need to get to St Mungo's right now. Harry has been admitted into the critical care unit. They're still searching for Ron."


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I usually update on Tuesdays anyway, but I'm updating today since I'll be busy tomorrow from start to finish.
> 
> Beta love to mcal. All mistakes are my own.

 

* * *

Theo was nowhere to be seen when she arrived through the Floo, turning on her heel and hurrying down the corridor so she wouldn't have to listen to Winky. Hellbent on continuing the scolding on her muggle fashion, the little elf hurried after her, no doubt swishing the wooden spoon she held through the air furiously.

Hermione evaded her by rushing into her bedroom, slamming the door, and warding it through a series of wand movements. She sighed to herself, sinking her fingers into her messied curls, muttering to herself.

"I was wondering when you would be back."

Hermione, in a sound that was normally unlike her, squeaked as she whirled around. "Merlin, you scared the hell out of me, Daphne," she hissed. Her hand had flown to her throat in her fright, while her friend hadn't budged an inch.

Daphne wasn't smiling. Her arms were folded across her chest as she sat propped on Hermione's bed, her ankles crossed. With her lips set into a thin line, she looked the exact opposite of pleased. "It's probably not nearly as bad as you scared Theo."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Don't try to guilt me, Daph. I don't feel one bit sorry for brushing him off earlier."

The blonde swung her legs over the side of the bed. "Oh, I'm definitely not referring to that. Even I know that you must have your reasons for being so secretive about last weekend. As much as I'd like to know what really happened, you won't see me expecting to hear about it." She placed her hands on her hips, oddly reminiscent of Molly Weasley.

"Then just what are you referring to?"

She offered a clandestine smile, giving a slight wave of her hand. "Nothing, Hermione. If you don't already know, I suppose I should just let you figure it out. Theo hates when I meddle."

"And yet you do anyway, often." Hermione snorted. She slid her palms into her back pockets. "Out with it before you combust."

"Harry dropped by on his lunch break to see how Theo was holding up. They've hit a rough patch since you were attacked. Theo is certain that Harry knows exactly what happened, and isn't telling him." Daphne glared when Hermione swallowed roughly. "Imagine how distraught your older brother was when he learned that you weren't meeting Remus with Harry?"

Hermione didn't give a reaction, keeping her features neutral. "I've met with Remus by myself several times, and unless he's garnered the ability to turn into a wolf whenever he likes, I believe he's only a danger one night a month. Even then, he's under the Wolfsbane potion."

Daphne threw her hands up. "Hermione!" she yelled, pacing the proverbial hole in the carpet while she was at it. "You can't be serious. I know how much you care—"

"You really don't," Hermione said smoothly. "I'm not going to fall in line with my father, or his beliefs after this."

"It's too dangerous to stand in front of the Wizengamot." Daphne argued, but her voice died in her throat as the bedroom door was slammed open, splintering as it did so.

Hermione whirled on her brother, wide-eyed and furious as she snapped, "You couldn't have knocked?"

Theo's face was drained of colour, and his gaze flickered from his sister to his fiance. "We need to get to St Mungo's right now. Harry has been admitted into the critical care unit. They're still searching for Ron."

* * *

Hermione waited at Theo's side in the waiting room, a section that had been warded from the rest of the hospital given that both Nott children were seated just inside. Her hand was tightly intertwined with Theo's, as was Daphne's on the other side of him.

"He'll be okay," Hermione whispered. No one mentioned that she was only hoping, and they still didn't know what was wrong. They weren't being told a thing, not how he'd been injured, only that it was an official Auror mission that had caused it. "He has to be okay."

Theo breathed slowly, just an uneasy repetition of in and out. His hand was clammy in hers, and he'd long since laid his head on Hermione's shoulder. "What's that?"

Hermione leaned forward, catching sight of sandy blond hair beneath the bright lights of the hospital corridor. Her eyes shot open. "That's Remus," she breathed. "He's still listed as Harry's emergency contact."

Her brother heaved a sigh before he stood. Hermione watched as Theo squared his shoulders, making his way past the wards, and grabbing the healer by his shoulder.

Both women rushed after him, catching the end of the conversation. "—this is his guardian. You'll let him into the waiting room with us." Theo left no room for debate. "Or you'll regret it."

Healer Jones clutched his clipboard to his chest. "King Nott would not approve. I'm afraid that we simply can't admit a werewolf into the same waiting room as you. It's far too dangerous given the recent events of Princess Nott." His eyes cut to Hermione.

She scoffed. "He's coming with us."

The aging healer shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Your Royal Highness. Mr Lupin will need to be kept in a separate waiting room, one far from you, or King Nott would have my head."

In a swift movement, one that seemed to have been trained in the past, Healer Jones found himself staring down two wands. Hermione gritted her teeth as Theo angled himself in front of her, his jaw clenched so tightly she feared his teeth might break. "I'll have your head if you disregard anything I have to say again." Theo hissed.

"How dare you think you can just tuck him away into another space like he needs to be quarantined." Hermione said, raising her chin. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

Remus settled a hand on Hermione's shoulder, and then Theo's. "Lower your wands. I will speak to the Head Healer and give you the information about Harry. Then I'll take my leave."

"Like hell you will." Theo muttered, clapping a hand on Remus' back. "Potter would never forgive me if I made you leave."

Healer Jones looked to be horrified, swiftly turning on his heel, and he was no doubt about to raise the alarm.

"Get into the waiting room," Hermione instructed. "I think Aurors will be here soon and I have no intention of letting them kick Remus out of St Mungo's." She ushered them into the room, catching Daphne's worried glance. "Don't worry about it."

"I have a terrible feeling about why Harry is here," Daphne whispered. "With Remus here, what do you think your father will do?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't particularly care what he has to say. Remus has just as much right to be here as anyone else. He was best friends with James Potter and he's listed as the emergency contact on Harry's forms."

Daphne nodded, still glancing over her shoulder. "I wish they would let us in to see him at the very least. Where is Ron? Wouldn't he have been with Harry if it were a mission?"

Hermione was ashamed to realise she hadn't even thought of it yet. "I don't have any idea," she admitted softly. "Fuck, all we can do is wait now."

Daphne nodded her head, her gaze cutting to Theo and Remus who were standing in the corner of the room. Theo's head was bowed, and he was listening intently to the man.

As was his normal, Remus was dressed in trousers that were worn and many times patched over. He ran a hand down his face, his exhaustion showing in the lines of his face, and all was silent for several seconds. Theo and Remus' whispers couldn't be heard by either woman, due to a  _Muffliato_  that was solidly in place.

An alarm went off, the light above Harry's door flashing red. Hermione rushed to Theo, sliding her hand into his. "Don't try to go to him, Theo. We need to allow the healers to do their job."

He was still straining to enter the room as healers flooded their space, their faces nearly drained of colour. "What's going on?" Theo yelled.

Only one junior healer stopped in her tracks. She squared her shoulders before looking up at Theo, being a head shorter than him. "Auror Potter is experiencing complications due to the medicines that have been given to him." Healer Smith looked to Remus, probably already having heard that he was the primary contact. "The majority of staff here won't know what has caused this. Only Healer Jones would know, and I'm afraid…"

Hermione was outraged with the unfairness of it all. "Remus Lupin is Harry's primary contact, and he's part of the only family Harry's got. There's not a single reason for a senior healer at St Mungo's to discriminate against him due to fear." She lifted her chin high in outrage as fingers dug into either side of her shoulder.

"Given the circumstances, I think Healer Jones and I should have a discussion once Harry is stabilised." Her father stood in front of his own guards, his face flushed, and his hands steadfast at his side. "You should get in the room. I'll explain to my children and Mr Lupin what has happened."

Hermione took a sudden step in front of Remus, her wand already in hand. "I won't hesitate to hex you if you come near him." She threatened through gritted teeth. "You were supposed to be in France until tomorrow."

Her father holstered his wand, his face becoming an unreadable mask. "Mr Lupin, I have no intention of having you thrown out of this hospital."

"You know what happened to Harry?" Remus asked without preamble. His voice was bordering on a growl, and if her father felt threatened, he didn't show it. "Explain."

Her father bristled at the command but said nothing of it. "He was sent on a mission with Auror Weasley. They haven't found Auror Weasley as of yet. Anytime a Dark wizard is sighted or assaults an Auror, I receive the reports immediately."

"Did they catch him?" Hermione blurted. Her mind was still reeling from the news.  _Ron, oh Merlin, Ron was still out there somewhere._ "Do they have any idea where Ron is?"

He shook his head. "He was last spotted outside of Wiltshire. Parts of the report were redacted," her father murmured, coming closer to stand in front of them. "I shouldn't tell you that, but it seems secrecy is of the utmost importance for now."

Remus swallowed roughly behind Hermione. "Merlin, what did they have the two of them doing?"

Nott Sr shook his head. "I wish I knew."

She told herself that his tone meant nothing, but there was something lurking just below the surface. A chill rolled down her spine. Hermione looked to Theo, her question visible in her eyes, but he shook his head.

He didn't know what she was saying.

Shouting came from inside Harry's room. "Get the fuck off of me!" Harry roared, and there was the sound of something, probably the tray, crashing to the floor. "Where is Ron?"

Hermione's heart clenched as Theo didn't make a move. Forced to school his features, and not give away how much he cared that Harry was in that room, he handled it well. She supposed that he'd had a lot of practice over the years. In front of their father, Harry was just Hermione's friend.

She gulped as there was another crash, and then the hospital door splintered. Healer Jones was sprawled at her feet, nursing a nasty gash across his forehead. The moment he realised who had joined them in the waiting room, he climbed to his feet. "He'll make a full recovery, alright."

Harry caught sight of her through the door, and he froze for a moment. Just long enough to mouth something to her really. It took three tries for Hermione to understand.

_Go to Dumbledore._

She nodded, her fingers tightening around her vine wand.  _Okay_ , she mouthed back,  _create a distraction._

His grin was wicked as he seized the largest healer in the room by the throat.

* * *

Getting into Hogwarts after graduating was not as easy as she would have liked. Luck was on her side as she Apparated into Hogsmeade. The students and staff were enjoying a weekend trip to the village, and even better for her, Headmaster Dumbledore was seated in the Hog's Head.

He was alone and Hermione slid into the booth across from him, dispelling her disillusionment charm as she did so. Weaving her wand through the Notice Me Not charm, she relaxed in the seat. "Harry told me to come to you. I assume you know why?"

The man nodded, and for the first time in her life, Hermione found that there was no twinkle in his eyes. "He's in St Mungo's?"

"Yes," Hermione replied. "Do you know what happened?"

"I'll let Harry tell you everything for himself, but right now the only reason he's sent you to me is for Ron Weasley. Shall we?" Dumbledore slid two coins onto the table.

Hermione blanched. "Do you know where Ron is? How can you possibly,"

He held up a finger to shush her, glancing around the establishment before looking to her once more. "You must listen to me very carefully, Miss Nott. There are eyes and ears everywhere, for reasons I cannot explain to you right now. Mr Weasley's life is much more important."

She quieted, sinking into the seat. "Headmaster… what can you tell me?"

He rose from his seat, waving his hand for her to follow. "Upstairs, my dear." Dumbledore cast another disillusionment charm, this time over both of them, and she could sense how much stronger his spell was compared to hers. The rickety stairs creaked beneath their combined weight, but she followed him. He led her beyond the public Floo, and down the corridor to another floo. "If I'm correct, you must remember that no matter what you learn today, you cannot act on it."

She caught sight of her pale face in the mirror, and swallowed. "Professor Dumbledore, I understand, but…" Below their feet, voices climbed into the rafters, shouting demands as to where Princess Hermione was. "For certain reasons, I can't go with you. If it's as secretive as you claim, I think I'm a hindrance."

He raised his chin, and patted her shoulder. "Very well, Miss Nott. You've done your part by coming to me. Harry did exactly as instructed. You should return to the hospital now."

Hermione Apparated without turning to see who was sprinting up the stairs. There was a hard look about her former Headmaster, and it twisted something deep in her gut. As if she had been run through. There was a sharp tug behind her navel as she disappeared, but words rattled in her head.

_Harry did exactly as instructed._

What had he been instructed to do, especially by Professor Dumbledore?

It was a new cluster of pieces to fit together, and none of them fit correctly.

* * *

Hermione sat on the bed with Harry, her back pressed against the pillow as she relaxed under his arm. Ignoring the disapproving looks her father sent her way, Hermione didn't move from her spot.

True to his word, Professor Dumbledore and Ron landed in the hospital some time later. She hadn't seen them, but Daphne was quick to pass along the news to Harry and Hermione.

With a trembling lower lip, and wide eyes, Daphne whispered that Ron had been cursed brutally. The healers were overheard saying they hadn't seen anything like it, not since the first wizarding war. At those words, Harry's fingers tightened on Hermione's shoulders.

The word  _war_  was not unfamiliar to any of them. Harry had lost his family at the end of the war; technically, even though he preferred to not talk about it, Harry had  _ended_ the war via a redirected Killing Curse. The war had taken James and Lily Potter.

It had taken her mother, though not in the traditional sense. Hermione's gaze drifted toward her father, her mind combing through the stories of her mother's death, of the way she'd been found, her life snuffed out by the Killing Curse.

To hear the war brought up almost nonchalantly while both of her closest friends laid in beds due to a dark wizard, Hermione's stomach sank. It was the same feeling as the internal twisting when Dumbledore said Harry did as he was told.

It took two hours for Hermione and Harry to be left to their own devices. In the end, it was actually Daphne to usher everyone from the room. Theo and their father exited, albeit while casting looks over their shoulder, for different reasons.

"We aren't done talking," Daphne warned her before closing the door.

Hermione looked at Harry, her anxiety giving buckling beneath the invisible weight. "What happened out there today?"

His hand found hers beneath the blanket, lacing their fingers together as they had as small first years who were nervous for Hogwarts. "What did Dumbledore tell you?"

"He told me you did exactly as you were instructed. What does that mean? What did he ask you to do?"

"I was called to Hogwarts this morning. He knew about a report I had received this morning."

She frowned. "You weren't gone long then before you were brought here. You visited Theo,"

"Yes," he said. "I did and I wish I hadn't considering the argument that followed." Harry's fingers slid through his hair. "Someone's escaped from Azkaban."

"That's not—That's not  _possible,_ " Hermione whispered. "Who has escaped?"

"Sirius Black."

If she were easy to scare, she might have shrivelled under Harry's harsh tone. She knew the name as well as he. "Oh, Harry,"

He squeezed her hand. "He wasn't the one attempting to murder me. I don't know who it was. I never even saw their face, but Dumbledore told me. Sirius Black has escaped, and it will be all over the Prophet within a week."

"There's more, isn't there?" Hermione pulled his glasses from his face as she noticed the cracked lens. "You can't tell me, can you?"

He swallowed. "I will."

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading another chapter, and I look forward to hearing what you think after finishing!
> 
> Next Chapter Snippet: He wasn't there, but there was a trail of blood leading toward the heap of blankets. She glanced around, wary of what might jump out at her, as she knelt down. Clearly, he'd been in cave recently, perhaps just having left as they were exiting the castle.
> 
> "Injured," she whispered to herself. Hermione left the Wolfsbane in the bundle of blankets and then she pulled shrunken food from the pocket of her cloak.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot I was able to update this today, even though technically I'm supposed to update on Wednesday's. Beta love to mcal. Alpha love to MykEsprit.

 

* * *

Hermione's failed attempt to stand up to the Wizengamot wasn't publicized. They were likely to get to it eventually, as it was the first time anyone—they would gossip of how it was a woman, as if it were the only noteworthy thing about her—had gone against the monarchy in such a blatant way.

It wasn't newsworthy, not when a convict had escaped from Azkaban... Which was supposed to be impossible.

_SIRIUS BLACK HAS ESCAPED AZKABAN_

_Rita Skeeter_

_In a most shocking tale, there has been an escape from the Wizarding World's most formidable_ — _and only_ — _prison. Sirius Black is to be considered armed and dangerous according to Kingsley Shacklebolt. Shacklebolt refused to comment on speculation that the former Auror is targeting his Godson, one Harry James Potter._

_For those of our readers who may be too young to remember, or for those of us who could use a brush up when it comes to history, Black was the best friend of James Potter. The two were thick as thieves through their Hogwarts years, even enlisting as Aurors together. The first Wizarding War was at its peak, and the Potters seemingly vanished. Young Lily Potter gave birth while in hiding, and there's evidence to support the claim that she was pregnant for a second time when You-Know-Who raided Godric's Hollow._

_Tragically, may their souls rest, James and Lily Potter were slain. Protecting his wife, James was found facedown in their living room, and Lily gave her life for a then baby Harry._

_No one truly knows how an infant was spared by the Killing Curse, the worst Unforgivable of them all, much less how it was redirected at You-Know-Who._

_Sirius Black gave up the location of the Potters, effectively sentencing them to death, and causing his Godson, a child he must have pretended to love, to be an orphan raised by muggles._

_Black then murdered twelve muggles before being sentenced to Azkaban. It's been twelve years since his sentencing, and I would dare say it has not been long enough._

" _Incendio,_ " Hermione hissed. She watched the newspaper burst into flames, turning it on itself as the flames crackled and popped. "Has he seen this?"

Theo shook his head. "Not that I'm aware of; he left early this morning for an Auror mission."

Each time a mission was mentioned, her shoulders tensed. Slowly raising her head as they sat alone at the table, she asked, "Did he say what it was?"

"You know how he is. He's not going to tell either of us. Potter claims I worry too much, and he's correct in his thinking that you'll chase after him." His fork sunk into his roasted potatoes, slamming against the dish and cracking it all the way through. He barely grumbled a low curse before Winky bounded into the room.

Winky vanished the dish, taking Theo's hand and checking it for cuts. "Prince must be careful!"

"I know."

"Prince is moody lately. Not to worry, Princess Hermione will stop acting like a brat soon enough." The little elf grinned before disappearing with a ' _CRACK!'_

"She's feisty lately, isn't she?" Hermione asked.

Theo pushed his plate to the middle of the table, glancing at the empty chair at the head of the table. His head fell into his hands. "Possibly because you're tracking mud all over the floors every night."

It was lucky that she didn't show a visible reaction to his words. Hermione dabbed her mouth with a napkin. The tip of her shoe connected with his shin and his head snapped up. "You're surly at the moment; even more so than normal. Why?"

"Why are you returning home at two in the morning? Father is going to catch you."

Candles flickered around the room, casting them in a dim light. "That's why I don't do it when he's home. What are you going to do—tell on me?"

He glared at her, his lips pressing into a thin line. "Of course not. Unlike you, I actually trust my sibling."

Her napkin floated to the table, not having the desired effect after she'd tried to throw it down. "Don't guilt trip me."

"Well, maybe if you didn't make it where I had—"

"I do trust you," Hermione blurted. "I just can't tell you, not yet. I promise I will."

He gritted his teeth, grinding them as he pushed away from the table. "You know, that's exactly what I hear all the fucking time, Hermione. It's tiring to be kept out of the truth. You're putting yourself in danger, I fucking know it, and I can't stand it!" Theo stormed out of the hall, leaving her open mouthed in the wake of his outburst.

"Theo!" Hermione shrieked. Her footsteps were hard against the floors as she raced after him. Catching up to him partway through the corridor, she grabbed him by the elbow and forced him to face her. "Please, I can't stand fighting with you."

He leaned close, still towering over her. "He's an Auror, so I have no choice but to accept that he can't tell me about his missions. You and I have always been close. I can't think of any reason you wouldn't tell me about something unless it meant you were risking your life."

He was furious with her, and it made her sick. Guilt gnawed at her, chipping away her resolve. "You would stop me," Hermione whispered.

His eyes, a harsh cerulean that he'd inherited from their father, flashed and he clenched his jaw. "I'll stop you right now unless you tell me what's going on."

"If you'll stop me either way, it's not worth putting someone else in danger. Just update the wards, Theo. Stop me. You've been dying to for weeks and I won't stop you." Hermione muttered. She catalogued items in her head. She'd left blankets, food, and water. The full moon was quickly approaching now, and Hermione would have to find a way out of the castle within the next week to leave a batch of Wolfsbane.

Her brother pulled her into a rib crushing hug. "You're the biggest pain in my arse." He whispered into her hair. "I could strangle you half of the time, and lock you up the rest of it. You're  _constantly_ acting like a Gryffindor."

Her body shook with her laughter. "I am a Gryffindor."

"It's shite that both of the most important people are fucking reckless little beasts." It was a growl, and then he released her. "It's a man, isn't it?"

It was as good a cover as any other, she thought in a split second she was offered before answering. "Yes." Hermione kept her voice low, her eyes downcast as if she were embarrassed. Theo believing she had a secret boyfriend rather was more beneficial than him learning she was taking supplies to a homeless werewolf.

The current working theory was that he was homeless.

"Is he a Gryffindor?"

"It's not Ron if that's what you're asking." She laughed. "We already tried that. It went about as well as you said it would."

Whether he believed her or not, she wasn't sure, but he dropped the questions and attitude. For now, at least.

* * *

Hermione made her way down to the lab, the newest edition of the Daily Prophet tucked neatly under her arm. Not paying attention as the door swung up, she wasn't prepared for Daphne to be sitting on the counter. "What are you doing here?"

"Just fancied a chat is all," Daphne replied, kicking her legs up and giving a wave.

"I doubt that." Hermione laid the paper across her work desk before folding her arms over her chest. "How is Astoria?"

"Still intent on muddying up the family name as my father puts it." It was a lazy drawl as she hopped down from the counter. "Enough with the small talk." Daphne braced her hands against the edge of the table. "You might have Theo fooled, but it won't work so well on me. If he ever came down here, he would learn a thing or two about his sister." Her fingers ran down the side of a bottle of Wolfsbane.

No use in denying it, even if it was only a meticulously placed guess.

"Get that look off your face, I'm not going to tell him." Daphne sighed. "What's going on?"

Another headline about Sirius Black, followed by another about students being petrified at Hogwarts faced the ceiling as Hermione caved. "There was another werewolf in the forest when I was attacked. He saved my life, killed the other one. I was with him, asleep in a cave, when Aurors were sent into the forest to find me."

A strangled sound left Daphne. "Sleeping?"

"Well, I wanted to stay so I would know who he was when he woke up. I knew my father would never let me out of the castle if I went back right then."

The blonde across from her blinked several times in rapid succession. "So you stayed the night. With a  _werewolf_. Merlin, I know you have a bleeding heart, but what were you thinking? Obviously he must have been on Wolfsbane since he didn't maul you, but—what now?" Daphne snapped as Hermione shook her head.

"I spoke with Remus and we don't think he had access to Wolfsbane. There's another explanation, but it's just a theory, and I can't wrap my head around it."

"You can't wrap your head around it? Merlin help us all then." Daphne rubbed her temples. "What's the theory then?"

"That I'm his mate."

A vial fell from the table, the thin glass shattering against the floor. "Come again?"

"M-A-T-E." Hermione spelled out, speaking slowly and grinning as Daphne's irritation grew. "I know. It's absurd, but he saved my life. I can't imagine not leaving him supplies when it's clear he has no home of his own to return to."

Running a hand down her face, Daphne's shoulders fell. "Theo is going to kill you when he finds out."

"I'll tell him eventually."

"This is what Harry knows about, what he's keeping from Theo. Theo mentioned that parts of the report were redacted, and not even your father could get his hands on them." Daphne sighed again, a weary look crossing her face. "You shouldn't go alone."

Hermione shrugged. She began to bundle the potions, packaging them carefully with a Cushioning Charm. "He won't be there. He never is." Sliding the bundle of vials into her cloak, she met Daphne's eyes. "Each time I return, the supplies are gone. Maybe he's avoiding me, I have no way of knowing. All I know is he's coming back to retrieve what I leave for him."

Daphne's fingers were a stark white as she gripped the edge of the table. "Were you going to make a trip today?"

"Yes. It's the week before the full moon now."

"I'll go with you," Daphne tucked wisps of hair behind her ears. "You shouldn't go alone. Not to mention, I think Theo is waiting for you to leave the castle. He won't suspect you if we're together."

She didn't like it, but conceded. "You can follow me then."

They exited the potions lab, and Hermione locked the door behind her, layering the spells so she wouldn't have any other unwelcome visitors waiting for her when she returned. They passed Theo while he was in the library, hunched over a table with a large tome in front of him.

He didn't notice as they hurried by.

Daphne struggled to keep up with Hermione as they weaved a path through the courtyard below the front of the castle. "Do you think he'll be there?"

"I hope so." Even though she didn't know what she would say. What could she say?  _Hello, you saved my life and I've been trying to find you for two months now._ Or possibly  _The Wizarding World is more prejudiced than ever. Can I interest you in letting me hold you up somewhere? As repayment?_

Somehow, Hermione knew it wouldn't be so simple.

Hermione and Daphne walked through the forest. Leaves crunched beneath their feet. A stray branch caught Daphne's sleeve, tearing the fine chiffon and she murmured she would have it mended later.

No words passed between them as Hermione made her way to the cave, and she froze in the entryway. "Wait here."

Daphne nodded.

He wasn't there, but there was a trail of blood leading toward the heap of blankets. She glanced around, wary of what might jump out at her, as she knelt down. Clearly, he'd been in cave recently, perhaps just having left as they were exiting the castle.

"Injured," she whispered to herself. Hermione left the Wolfsbane in the bundle of blankets and then she pulled shrunken food from the pocket of her cloak.

Not severely injured, no. It was more than a simple tangle in a brush, however, and that worried her.

Hermione stood, quickly pulling her friend away from the mouth of the cave before retreating to the castle.

* * *

Raven colored hair fell into his eyes as he grinned from across the table. "Another?"

"Harry," Hermione sighed. She pushed her own cup away, her eyes wandering to the other side of the room. "You should get home."

They all should.

Ron threw an arm around Hermione's shoulder, tugging her into a fierce hug before pressing his lips to her cheek. "Come on. It's a celebration."

She shrugged out of his grip, her shoulders slipping. "It's too dangerous for Harry to be out so late at night. They're still looking for Black."

Her words fell on deaf ears.

"Stop worrying," Harry grunted, greedily swallowing mouthfuls of booze. "We're in the middle of Diagon Alley. Nothing is going to happen here."

"It could," she hedged.

Ron clapped her in the back hard enough to make her choke on her own saliva. "Shite," his chest rumbled with laughter. "You're with Aurors."

They were convinced nothing could happen to them, Harry especially. Yet they weren't indestructible. Not infallible.

"It was not so long ago that the two of you were admitted to St Mungos." Neither of them looked at her, and they were content to pretend she was drowned out by the roaring crowd in the pub. "I'm not blind to what's happening, you know."

"Stay out of it." Harry barked. "Where are you going?"

He caught her wrist as she stood from the table, and Hermione wrenched it free. "Home. Theo asked me to be home early tonight."

"You promised to stay out with us," Ron spoke as he chomped his chips.

"I don't fancy watching the two of you risk yourselves for a couple drinks."

"It was a mission. We have them all the time. They don't stop just because you're worried." Harry stood, just a few inches taller than her. "Dumbledore should have never told you a thing. If I'd known you wouldn't be able to handle—"

Her eyes narrowed and she turned without another word. Ron yelled after her that she was overreacting.

She was. She knew it. All due to the world changing and her being helpless against it.

Hermione wrapped her jacket tight around her as she stepped into the cobblestone street, making her way toward the Apparition point. Muttering to herself as she went, she wasn't paying attention to the shifting wind behind her. She passed the entrance to Knockturn Alley without glancing up.

And that was her mistake.

A hand shot out, clamping down on her mouth as she fought against it. Cool brick was hard against her back, the faults in them snagging in her jumper.

Hermione didn't recognize the cruel face peeking out from under the cloak. Bony fingers clutched her cheeks, and pushed them inward. "You're close to him, to Harry?" A low, raspy voice asked.

Her response, a distasteful one, was muffled. The hand fell away, but she still found herself held steadfast to the wall by a sticking charm she couldn't break without a wand. "Who are you?"

"Did anyone ever tell you it's rude to answer a question with a question?" No, his voice wasn't raspy. It was gravely like it hadn't been used in years.

The realization swallowed her whole. "Black?"

"I'm not going to hurt you."

"You slaughtered twelve muggles and Harry's parents. Fuck you!"

Hands slammed against her shoulders, and the back of her head cracked against the wall. "I  _didn't_ kill James and Lily. I could never—"

Hermione screamed, because she couldn't reach her wand, and what was one to do when cornered by a murderer?

"Shut  _up_!"

She thrashed the best she could against him. Nearly biting through her own tongue as she did. Sirius Black Disapparated in front of her without another word in his defense. Hermione slid to the ground, her heart pounding in her ears as footsteps grew louder as they neared her.

"Miss?"

Hermione saw a shop clerk from Ollivander's his eyes wide with fright. Clammy hands pulled her to her feet, strategically placed at her elbows. "Princess Nott? Are you alright?"

She swallowed, and her voice was an eerie calm even to herself. "Would you be so kind to alert the Aurors? I was just grabbed by Sirius Black."

* * *

Harry and Ron were the first ones to the castle, which was saying a lot considering Theo was already waiting for her. Both her friends crashed through the Floo, reeking of copious amounts of firewhisky.

"'Mione!" Harry yanked her into a tight hug, his voice verging on hysteria. "I'm sorry. I didn't know, I didn't know—"

She shook her head. "It's not your fault."

"If I'd been there—"

"You can't save everyone." Hermione said softly. The noise in the room died, save for the door behind her swinging open. Her hands quickly found Harry and Ron's. "I'm okay, but I need to be with my family right now."

Harry looked over her shoulder, nodding. "Alright. Stay safe."

As both of them went through the Floo, Hermione slowly turned.

Theo was the image of unbridled rage. His hands were clenched as he stared at her, almost like he didn't believe she was there. "It was him?"

She nodded, her heart in her throat. "He didn't hurt me."

A vase shattered after it was thrown across the room. Theo reached her in two strides, his hands catching her by her elbows. "You're sure?" He swallowed thickly as he stared down at her.

Hermione slid her arms around his middle, burying her face into his chest. Fingers slid through her hair, catching in the tangled curls. "I promise I'm safe. He wasn't trying to hurt me, I don't think. He asked me if I was close to Harry."

Theo had enveloped her in a hug, and they tightened at Harry's name. "Merlin, what is the world coming to?"

She's noticed the world changing around them, from ancient magic whispering in the walls of her home, to the onslaught of missions Harry and Ron were sent on.

It was impossible to not notice when it demanded her attention.

Hermione's fingers clutched the back of her brother's wool jumper. "I don't know," she said, her voice muffled by his chest. "But I don't think it will be long before we find out."

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't wait to get to later chapters, especially chapter nine.
> 
> Next Chapter Preview: Morsmordre was distinct over her head, and she already had her wand in hand as the world seemed to rip at the seams and spill into chaos.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've tried to keep my author's notes minimal, but this one is just a bit longer. I hate updating weekly. It feels constricting creatively so I've decided to update as I feel like it as I have any other of my stories. I hope this won't be dissatisfying for readers, but it's the best option for me.
> 
> Thank you for being patient as the plot was building. I hope this is a payoff! Thank you to MykEsprit for her alpha work and mcal for her beta work.

 

* * *

Life as she knew it could hardly return to normal. It seemed a different horrifying deadline graced the front of the paper everyday.. Harry and Ron were gone more often than not, and Hermione found herself passing her time the only way she knew how.

The werewolf who had saved her life was still without a name, certainly without a face that she could put to a name. As she went into public each time, usually on Theo's arm since he was worried Black would work his way back around to her, she looked at every single person they passed. She would wonder if she had already passed her saviour in Diagon Alley... if he would stop her to talk if he noticed her.

Hermione made regular trips to the warded cave, Daphne always at her side. Each time proved to be a waste in the regard of actually finding the man. Daphne asked why she didn't give up already, but Hermione couldn't explain it.

It wasn't so simple to ask Remus if a werewolf bond would work both ways, but Hermione was certain it may have been a combination of her natural curiosity and the pull of mating bonds. The prospect that she wouldn't have control over herself in close proximity to her wolf-and try as she might, Hermione couldn't stop referring to him as  _hers_ -was terrifying. It reached down into her, latching onto all of her fears, bringing them to the open.

Theo must have noticed. He'd always paid such careful attention to his younger sister. Even though they'd spent the majority of their time fighting, by both physical and magical means, as children. He knew her the best out of anyone. Her older brother frequently found her sitting on the edge of the castle wall while she stared at the forest below.

It was the exact spot she was found by Theo, and a chorus of voices followed him. "Hermione!"

She looked over her shoulder, the backs of her sandals scraping against the stone wall behind her legs. "What is it?" Her eyes widened as she saw Harry and Ron behind her brother, both smiling and whole. Hermione scrambled off the side of the wall, sprinting past Theo and Daphne.

Harry dropped the drink he was holding, the intricate glass shattering at his feet as she threw her arms around both of their necks. Harry chuckled in her ear, giving her a tight squeeze just as Ron did. "Miss us?" Harry breathed.

Ron ruffled her hair, grinning ear to ear. "Good to see you, 'Mione. It's been a while."

"It's been  _three_ weeks!" She snapped, but her anger evaporated as she stared at them. "Will you be leaving again? Soon, I mean?"

Harry shook his head. "Could change at any time is what Moody says, but he suspects we'll be here for the month."

Ron elbowed Harry in the side. "But we'll still be visiting Hogwarts regularly."

"Hogwarts?" Hermione echoed. "Whatever for?"

Just patrols, they said, but she didn't believe it. Not even for a moment.

"That's not what we came to tell you though," Harry reached into his pockets, pulling a folded piece of parchment from inside. "The World Cup is next month!"

Hermione grimaced. "Lovely."

Theo laughed. "I told you that she wouldn't care."

It was true. No matter how many Quidditch matches she watched, she was unlikely to enjoy the sport. "I assume you're all going, and dragging me along?" Hermione said.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Of course. We got some of the best seats in the house! So you'll have to pretend to be excited, or what else will you do?"

"I might bring a book," she said dryly.

* * *

The World Cup was packed full of spectators, and Hermione felt like the only one who wasn't interested in the sport itself. Which would make sense, considering only those who thought Quidditch was entertaining would attend. The game was pushed off by two hours, well into the night time, but sports fans had been reassured that the stadium would be well lit.

Hermione flipped the page of her book as she took a seat on a stump near their tent. The others were still shopping at the merchandise stands, and one of them would think to bring her a jersey for who they believed would be the winning team. She couldn't stomach the thought of fighting her way through a crowd right now.

Night had fallen, and the moon was full overhead. She caught herself glancing up often as shadows shifted around her, and she swallowed. Wondering if her wolf was running wild in the forest tonight, Hermione also wondered if it would be possible for her to activate a portkey she'd stowed away in her luggage for this exact reason.

She wanted to know who he was. The curiosity was going to kill her if the pulling in her chest didn't first. It was indescribable, and she wondered if it was the same for him, if whenever she was far he could feel a thread growing more and more taut in his chest.

Mates were a romantic notion, she supposed, but the farther she was from the forest outside the castle, the tighter her chest grew. If she were to tell Remus that her anxiety had increased tenfold since the first, and only, meeting, she wondered if he would tell her more about it. As it was, all she had was the book in her hand, which was glamoured to show the newest edition of  _So, You Want Your Potions Mastery?_

Her father glowered whenever he saw it in her hands, but his reaction would be worse if he saw the actual book. It was unnamed, as she'd left the cover jacket in Harry's flat. It was hidden away neatly just in case Theo thought to look for it.

Still, the first section was all that was known on werewolf mates. Fighting for werewolf rights would be one thing to her father, but for him to suspect that she was mated with one, Hermione hated to think of the fallout.

_Mates recognise when the other is in danger. During the event of a full moon, a werewolf's senses will be heightened._

Truly though, the section was little. The book itself must have been all of twenty pages. Hermione knew if the theory was correct, that he would know if she was in danger.

The book nearly fell from her hands. During her encounter with Sirius Black, had her werewolf known then?

While there wasn't much to read, she was led to believe that if she were in danger, the werewolf would be searching for her. Hermione froze, closing to book as she squeezed her eyes shut. She tried to remember whether there was a face in the crowd that stood out as Aurors arrived.

A scream caused Hermione's eyes to shoot open. Then it was several screams, drowning out any laughter that had been in the camp before that. It echoed in her head, and for a moment, just one, all of her thoughts left her.

High above her head, Hermione recognised the Dark Mark. It had been all anyone would discuss for a long time once she and Harry made it to Hogwarts. She knew the mad man who had targeted her best friend. Her grandfather had been a staunch follower of You-Know-Who.

The Dark Mark was distinct over her head, and she already had her wand in hand as the world seemed to rip at the seams and spill into chaos.

* * *

Ron and Harry sprinted into the onslaught, shouting for her to hide.

Death Eaters ripped through the crowd, clothed in dark robes that blended against the backdrop of the sky, and their intricate masks. It unearthed a memory from her childhood that she would have rather left forgotten.

Frozen to the spot, Hermione could see the swirling golden lines of a mask. There was a line of three dots just below the eye. The Death Eater didn't stop to look at her before green light jetted from their wand. Hermione knew about Death Eaters, she'd found a mask sometime ago in her father's study, and she'd been forced to confront his morality.

His mask was a stark white, black glittering lines shaping where his cheeks would be. It was all she could remember even though she'd held it herself for hours upon its discovery.

She needed to get out of the way before she was cursed.

Armed with their wands, and  _curses;_  curses that Hermione had never heard before. She stood in abject horror.

Someone slammed into her. They told her to fucking run, to stop gawking and run if she wanted to live.

She gripped her wand so tightly it might splinter.

She craned her head back, searching for Daphne, or for Theo. Neither were anywhere near her, and her throat seemed to close as she wondered if they were dead.

Bile rose in her throat, and her hand shot to her mouth before she could vomit. Already, there were bodies littering the campgrounds, dropped where they had once stood. Hermione tripped over a body, slamming against the dirt. She opened her eyes to see a man, dead, before her, and his organs were spilling out of his abdomen.

Hermione climbed to her feet, running away from the Death Eaters. She shouted for Theo, or for Daphne, and then she stopped in the middle of it all.

Harry and Ron were in the thick of it. Of course they were Aurors, and this was part of their job, but… Change, she wanted change, and she wanted to protect those closest to her.

Her father would have her head.

Turning sharply on one foot, Hermione rushed into the middle of it, but there was not a chance to cast a spell as someone caught her by both arms. "Get off me!"

A man laughed behind her, pulling her flush against his chest. Her wand was vertical to her body, and there was no pulling it up. "What could a princess be doing in the middle of battle."

The voice seemed familiar, but a muffling spell kept her from placing it exactly.

She thrashed in an attempt to get free, tightening her jaw. "Don't call me 'princess'."

A wand jabbed into her throat, and Hermione levelled a stare at the Death Eater in front of her. In spite of the matching attire, Hermione could tell it was a woman. Her robes framed her figure closely, the fabric tight around her chest and looser around her hips. "You heard her. Maybe we should refer to her as what she is," The woman cackled. Her face was an inch from Hermione's when she snarled, "You're not princess. You're nothing but a fucking bastard."

There was the deafening crack of Apparition that had the ground shaking below her feet. "Unhand her, or I'll kill you where you stand."

Hands slipped from her arms, and she heard the man hitting the ground. Wide eyed, she came face to face with her father as he pushed her behind his back.

Cackling, the woman opposite Hermione was still cackling as if she had received a gift.

"Go home." He said gruffly, pressing a portkey into her hand. "Theo and Daphne will meet you there."

A wand raised toward them, and Hermione was unable to say a word before there was a harsh tug behind her navel.

* * *

Hermione collapsed on the rug before the fireplace, her lips parted in a scream, but nothing left her. She couldn't stand on her own, and she stared into the flames, the heat radiating against her skin as she held up the portkey. She needed to get back, that's what she needed to do.

Her father was likely duelling a Death Eater now because of her, because she wanted to be brave, because she wanted to be more than who she was.

_Bastard. Bastard. Bastard. Bastard._

Hermione swallowed. She didn't know what it meant, nor was she sure it mattered then.

"Hermione," Theo sighed, reaching for her, and she flinched away from him.

"Father is fighting a Death Eater that attacked me." She whispered. The castle was silent, nothing like the calamity she had been whisked away from. "We have to go back."

Her brother slid to his knees in front of her. "Daph, can you bring a Calming Draught from her lab?" Following the footsteps, Theo lifted her chin. "Look at me, were you hurt anywhere?"

She shook her head. "No, Father saved me. We need-"

"We can't go back."

"He's alone!"

Theo gripped her shoulders, giving her a hard look. "He's not alone. The Ministry has already sent all of their Aurors. He'll come home, Hermione. You need to stay inside where you're safe."

"The witch-" Hermione stared at the carpet, pulling a frayed strands. "She said I was a bastard. Do you know what she's talking about?"

His brows drew together. "No."

An hour later, Hermione had still refused the Calming Draught. She wanted to clear headed when her father arrived. She was resisting the urge to worry that he might never come home.

What had happened tonight?

The news came as her father appeared in the doorway. His words were grim. "There was a mass breakout from Azkaban. All the incarcerated Death Eaters from the war are free." His gaze landed on her, and she hurried across the room.

"I need to speak with you," Hermione murmured. Perhaps she should have been focused on the news of the breakout, but the questions in her head were threatening to burn a hole straight through her.

He didn't say anything at all as he led her down the corridor with a heavy sigh, opening the door to his study. "I always knew we would have this conversation. I just thought it would be due to my decision to tell you the truth."

It sounded ominous. Her stomach dropped as she stared at him. There was a cut across his cheek, and he was favoring his right side. "Do you need a Pain Potion? I can-"

"Ask me the question, Hermione." His voice was gruff as he sat on the edge of his desk, his wand laying flat beneath his hand. "You've waited long enough, I think. Twenty-one years now."

Hermione blinked. She clasped her hands in front of her, lacing her fingers together. He was telling her to ask, and her voice was caught in her throat. Worried it would sound stangled if she spoke, Hermione clammed up.

 _You're no princess. You're nothing but a fucking bastard._ The words played on repeat, blurring together as the woman laughed.

Father didn't crumple under her accusing stare. He stood while leaned against his desk, bleeding from a shallow cut just above his eyebrow. "Ask, Hermione."

"What did she mean when she told me I should have died with my blood traitor parents? She called me a bastard."

Father swallowed hard, and he looked away from her. "The only way to tell you this is to be blunt. I'm sorry." He inhaled, and his fingers tightened on the edge of the desk, turning white. "I am not your father."

If she were weaker, her legs would have buckled. They nearly did anyway. It's what she'd expected to hear but more questions surfaced.  _What about Theo? What about all of the times her mother spoke to her from her portrait?_ There was a bad taste left in her mouth.

He had been lying to her for years, and the floor gave way beneath her.

Father called her name, catching her and sitting her in the chair behind her. "Look at me. You need to keep breathing. Do you understand?"

Hermione sucked in a breath, her chest contracting painfully as she stared at him. "I don't understand. Mum's portrait-she would have told me," She broke off, bringing her knees to her chest. It was too much. Tears clouded her vision as she glared at him.

He shook his head. "No, she and I agreed just after her death, as she appeared in the portrait that it was best you never knew." Father's voice was soft, almost weak.

It felt as if something fundamental had been ripped from her in one savage had taught her tricks as a child, played with her in the gardens. This was the same man who chased her, let her catch him, let her win.

She'd owled him from school when someone picked on her, when she'd gone through her first break-up. Before trying to arrange a marriage for her, her father… Hermione tore herself from the thoughts that were quickly dragging her down. "You're not my father,"

"No, I'm not." He knelt in front of her, hand rest against her knee. His eyes were cloudy, but the saw the regret. Did he regret hiding it from her for so long? Did he regret telling her at all? Her father bit his lip hard, and his shoulders fell before he whispered, "Your mother had an affair before her death."

(Hermione's reaction to that revelation, and then the thought process that leads her to the next question.) She shuddered, lacing her fingers together as she swallowed the lump in her throat. Hermione listened to his low voice instructing her to breathe. Mind spiralling, she gripped one of her hands tight with the other as she tried to find the words to ask another question, but she could only think of one.

"Theo?" she asked weakly.

"Theo is my son," he replied.

 _But I'm not your daughter._ "You're sure that you're not my father? How could you possibly-"

"The test was performed after your birth. I'd known long before that you weren't mine by blood, but it's never made you any less to me." He pushed away from the desk, reaching for her hand. "You're my daughter. You've always been my daughter, even through magical adoption."

Hot tears slid down her cheeks. "How could you raise me if I wasn't yours? How could you stand to look at me if I'm a reminder that she-she-"

His fingers caressed her cheek. "It was impossible to watch you be born and not think of you as my own." Father sighed, casting a dark look toward the entrance to the study. Finding that no one lingered behind them, he continued. "Of course...I learned halfway through that you weren't mine. Not in the traditional sense, but it didn't matter."

It made her pause as she put let her face fall into her hands.

The sharp twists and turns of the conversation made her want to vomit. She wanted her brother.

The question had been weighing on her for years, but she never believed the rumors. Her father wasn't a murderer, she'd always believed that. Yet he had a Death Eater mask in his possession, likely the Dark Mark marring his own forearm, and her mother had carried on an extra-marital affair. The thought made her sick, but the rumors snapped into place.

Her mother had been found dead from an  _Avada,_ and Hermione knew the story well, down to the nastiest details. Curiosity was a dangerous thing. Found with her face frozen in a mask of terror and tears staining her cheeks, there had been no chance of saving her.

Then it rolled right off her tongue. "What happened to my mother? All I know is that she was found dead, and no one ever knew who did it."

He flinched. "Are you asking me if I murdered my wife?"

She raised her chin. "She had an affair. I have the right to ask. I need to know."

The low light of the room allowed her to barely see the anguish crossing his face. "Your mother was killed by her lover." His hand curled into a fist, and he hit the floor so hard it shook beneath her feet. He stood, pacing back and forth before Hermione. "He was subjected to the  _Imperius,_ and told to murder her. He wasn't able to fight the compulsions, and once the spell was lifted, he went after a cell of Death Eaters." He squeezed his eyes shut. "There were too many of them, and he died. He took seventeen with him in the fiendfyre he caused."

"Who?" Hermione croaked. "Tell me his name."

"His name isn't important, Hermione. Death Eaters are free, and several of them will be looking for you at the soonest opening. They're still loyal to the Dark Lord-"

"Are you?"

"Hermione-"

"I think we're on the cusp of another war, Father. If it comes down to it, whose side are you on? I found your mask when I was twelve."

He wouldn't look at her, and she knew his answer. "Family over everything," he uttered. "You cannot be caught in the crossfire. It's more important than ever that we stay out of affairs."

Hermione gritted her teeth. "If my family chooses Voldemort, than I will be on the other side. I'll fight against my family, Fa-" She cut herself off at the title.

"Never say the name," He told her. "If a war is coming, saying the name brings down a fate on your head worse than death if you're on the other side."

Hermione stood, her legs wobbling. She hadn't forgotten what she wanted to know, though he probably wished she had. "Tell me who he was." She whispered.

He tried to tell her it wasn't important, that it didn't define her. She was still a Nott, he promised, but at the end he murmured a name. "Gideon Prewett. He was on the other side."

She knew because he would have been Ron's uncle. Molly Weasley's brother, one fallen from the Order of the Phoenix.

And he was her father.

* * *

Hermione went to her room, sick to her stomach. She found everyone, including Harry and Ron, waiting for her. There was a silence as she shut the door.

They would understand. She could tell them, Hermione reasoned with herself, but at the look on Harry's face, she closed her mouth.

Harry looked at her, but he could have been looking through her with how empty his stare was. "My scar hurt during the attack. I've gone to Dumbledore."

Whatever it was, it was terrible, and everything was crashing down on them all at once. Judging by the expressions everyone already knew what Dumbledore had said.

"He says Voldemort is on his way to returning."

Hermione sat on the bed with all of them, staring at the blanket as they fell into silence.

It was sometime later, during the middle of the night, that everyone had fallen asleep in her bed. Hermione glanced at the moon, the pull in her chest growing fiercer by the moment, and she made a split second decision.

Hermione grabbed Harry's invisibility cloak from his bag and slipped from the room.

* * *

 

 **Next Chapter Preview:** He raised his head, looking at her for several moments that seemed to drag by. He tilted his head to the side. It had been two months, Hermione thought as she took small steps toward him. "Do you remember me?"

 _I remember you, always remember you._ She wasn't sure what his voice would be like, even though she'd imagined this moment more than once. It's low in her mind, raspy and gravelly as she sunk to sit on her knees in front of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that's a semi cliffhanger, but yes, white wolf next chapter with revelations. *Note: I know that it's mentioned last chapter that Hermione and Ron tried to make a go of things. This never involved anything physical except maybe a peck, so no incestuous relationships here lol.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alpha love to MykEsprit. Beta and cheerleading love to mcal. Thank you both so much.
> 
> I hope this chapter is worth the wait. I promise there are dramione interactions in almost every chapter for a long while.

 

* * *

Hermione glided down the steps, casting a long look down the corridor. It would seem her father was already asleep, or perhaps he wasn't even in the castle. Pulling the invisibility cloak tighter around her frame, Hermione made her way out of the castle, and into the courtyard. She pointed her wand at the iron lock on the gate, letting it give a small creak as it swung open.

It was a possibility that he hadn't taken the Wolfsbane she'd left for him. Maybe he'd moved on from the forest, from her, and something snapped in her chest at the thought. Hermione frowned.

It was only curiosity, she assured herself.

If she'd had something of him to track him by, a simple spell would have sufficed. Instead, she found herself navigating the forest, through felled trees beneath a full moon, by nothing more than a sensation in her chest.

Deeper into the forest, along the edge of the stream, Hermione stopped dead in her tracks. She nearly tripped over a rock as she saw him.

_Him..._

He raised his head, looking at her for several moments that seemed to drag by. He tilted his head to the side. It had been two months, Hermione thought as she took small steps toward him. "Do you remember me?"

 _I remember you, always remember you._ She wasn't sure what his voice would be like, even though she'd imagined this moment more than once. It's low in her mind, raspy and gravelly as she sunk to kneel in front of him.

"I wasn't sure you would remember me." Hermione gulped, nearly raising her hand to slide her fingers through his fur. "I wasn't convinced you would take the potion either."

 _Thank you for bringing me food, and blankets._ He led her back to the cave she'd frequented while searching for him, his nose occasionally bumping against the back of her knee.  _You were in danger._

Her heart threatened to give out in her chest. He had known. It meant Remus was right, but she didn't say it out loud as she sat on patch of blankets. "Yes," she offered. "Death Eaters attacked the crowds at the World Cup."

 _What are Death Eaters?_ He sat on his haunches, staring at her as he waited for an answer.  _What is your name?_

He didn't know who Death Eaters were, nor did he know who she was. Just how out of touch was he? "My name is Hermione. Death Eaters are… I'm not sure how to explain it. They're a group of witches and wizards who followed a dark wizard. They're murderers. They tortured Muggleborns and Blood traitors in the war. I can only think this is a second coming." She said. "Several of them have broken out of prison. One of them had her wand on me. If my father hadn't shown up when he did, I think she would have killed me then."

It hadn't struck her just how close she'd been teetering to death, and Hermione's shoulders fell.

He growled, pacing in a circle around her before a paw settled on her shoulder.  _I'll tear them apart._

A shiver went down her spine. Looking up, his face was just beside hers, and his eyes were a cool blue, lighter than the surface of the water.

_Do you have any idea why she wanted to kill you?_

She didn't know him, not his identity, nor how well he could be trusted. It didn't stop her. "She hated my parents," Hermione whispered. "It would seem that hatred was passed to me."

He didn't ask her anything else as he nudged her shoulder with his snout, pushing her to lay down.  _Sleep_ , he told her as her eyelids drooped.  _You're tired._ Hermione curled up atop the blankets, sighing as he pulled another blanket over her.

The wolf curled up behind her, nuzzling her hair as he inhaled the scent of her, and Hermione fell asleep against the warmth of him.

* * *

Sunlight streamed through the mouth of the cave. Hermione shifted, yawning and covering her mouth so as not to wake her sleeping companion. As she shifted, a high pitched squeak left her.

Rather than a wolf, a man was laying behind her, a man who was quite muscular. Hermione swallowed hard, attempting to slide away from him without waking him.

It didn't work. An arm locked around her waist, pulling her flush against him. He radiated heat, and it seeped through her clothes. Her cheeks were surely on fire as she realised he wasn't only cuddling her. A hard length was pressed against her inner thigh, and she tried not to wiggle as much.

Hermione rolled over, her hair falling into her face. Her hands were flat against his chest since he still had a tight grip on her. She paused, her lips parting as she took in the smattering of scars across his chest. Her fingers trailed over the bitemark where his shoulder met his neck. It must have been where he was bitten, and he bristled in his sleep as her fingers passed over it.

Unable to wait any longer, Hermione peered up at him. She would let him sleep, of course, but she had been waiting a long time to know who he was. Just a peek, she thought, and then she would disentangle herself from him.

Hermione recognised him immediately, and proceeded to scream. It was a less than savory reaction, but how else could she react? Blond hair fell across his face, probably not having been cut in years, and he was pale, paler than she could ever remember.

He sat up, his forehead knocking against hers as she pulled the blankets over him. "What is it?" Draco glanced around quickly, from the entrance to the cave to around them. "Is something wrong?"

Hermione stared at him, her heart pounding painfully in her chest. "You're-you're-"

He looked down at himself. "Is it because I'm nude? Sorry," Draco scratched his neck. "With transformations, I don't get a choice."

Eyes wide, and her heart pounding so wildly in her chest that it ached, Hermione reached out just to be sure he was real. Her fingers were met with his flushed skin, a jagged scar stretching down his pectoral. "What? No, it's not that you're naked. Where have you been? Lucius said you died in France. Theo's believed you've been dead for two years…"

He stared at her, surprised and unblinking. "You know who I am?"

At the time, she didn't realise he was asking her a question. "Of course I know who you are. We grew up together. You teased me through Hogwarts for being a Gryffindor, and I used to follow you and Theo around. Don't you remember?"

Draco didn't answer her question. "Tell me something else about me."

"Your father tried to convince my father to have me marry you in my sixth year." Hermione whispered. His hand found hers and she flinched.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I won't touch you-"

"It's not that!" She was shouting now, she knew it, but couldn't  _help_  the volume. "I just, I thought you were dead. To know that you've been wandering around in the forest for two months, so close to Theo, it makes me sick."

His fingers, caked with dirt underneath, slid along the stone floor. "Hermione is your name?"

She nodded.

"I don't remember you." He blurted. "I don't know who Theo is, or what Hogwarts is."

Hermione froze, her eyes widening as she took him in. Her blood ran cold as she looked him over. Just like his chest, his arms were covered in scars. "What do you remember?" She thought it might have all been a dream, that she would wake up and she could tell Theo about the oddest dream she'd ever had.

It wasn't a dream however.

He stood, chuckling under his breath as she looked away from her. Draco spoke as he pulled a pair of worn trousers on. "I remember the first change, forests that I moved through. It's easy to remember the werewolf who bit me, and then there's you,"

She choked, "Me?"

He was staring at her in awe as he pulled a shirt over his head, the muscles in his chest rippling as he did. "You're the one thing I remember so clearly." Draco shrugged like he hadn't dropped a dungbomb on her.

"I don't understand,"

"Who was I? Was I a wizard? Did I have a wand?"

Her heart broke as he asked her questions, each of them not having a happy response. "You must have been Obliviated," Hermione told him, reaching for his hand.

He slid his fingers through hers. "Does that mean someone took my memories?"

"So it would seem," Hermione nodded. "Is there anything you remember, anything at all? I could look into your mind if you let me; there may be a subconscious memory you're not aware of. Theo could give you his memories of you, though it wouldn't be all of them-"

"No," he growled. "I know you said he was-I don't want to know anyone else right now."

Hermione flinched. "He didn't know. Theo misses you everyday."

Draco smoothed her hair down, tucking stray pieces behind her ear. "I don't doubt that, but I'm not ready."

"You can't just continue to sleep in the forest," Hermione told him. "I won't let you stay out here, scavenging for food."

"I've been doing it for years."

"It ends here." Hermione ordered. "I'm going to visit your father. He was the last one to see you, and he's not the kindest man I've ever known."

"Do you believe my father erased my memories?"

She lifted her head, shivering as his thumb brushed across her cheek. "I don't know, but it's the best place for me to start."

"Would you teach me to use magic again?" Draco asked, and she leaned the calloused hand cupping her cheek. "Would you help me get my own wand again?"

"Yes."

* * *

The options for giving Draco a place to live were few. At the moment, she'd done the only thing she could, and that was to hide him in her bedroom, with silencing and locking spells in place. In a stroke of luck, though it was barely anything, Harry had left his invisibility cloak, and she'd left it in Draco's possession. She wouldn't be gone long.

The only thing left to do was to continue telling herself that everything was fine. If it wasn't, she would know.

Every time she passed Theo, or spoke to him over the course of the day, guilt twisted her insides. It was followed by the incredibly real struggle in accepting that she was not truly his sister. All their lives, they had been told it was blood that made family-which she didn't agree with-and she wasn't the same blood.

Eventually, she would need to tell Theo everything, but for the moment, Hermione hid under the guise of being traumatised by the events of the World Cup.

She made her way through the atrium of the Ministry, rising several floors in the lift. Hermione's heels clicked against the tile as she hastily made her way through the DMLE, coming to the office Ron and Harry shared. Rapping her knuckles lightly against the wooden door, Harry called for her to come in.

Hermione closed the door quietly, and breathed a sigh of relief when Ron wasn't in the room. She trusted him, but Hermione wasn't sure he would be as understanding as Harry was. "I need to ask you for a favor, and I wouldn't be here if there were anyone else."

Harry shut the file on his desk. "Let's grab lunch."

She followed him out the door, taking quick steps to keep up with him as his strides were longer than hers. "Harry?"

"Indian?" he asked.

She replied that Indian would be fine as they stepped into the lift with two other Aurors. Hermione leaned against the wall, paying no mind as Harry carried on a conversation with Susan Bones, and another Auror whose name she didn't know. Upon dropping to the lowest civilian floor, Harry pulled her from the lift.

Once outside the Ministry, he casted a wandless silencing spell around them. "I really am famished, but I don't think this will be an appropriate conversation for a restaurant."

"Not particularly," Hermione agreed as a passerby bumped her shoulder. "Sorry." Turning back to Harry, she sighed. "I know who the werewolf is that saved me, and I need a place to hide him. He's apparently been roaming the English countryside for the last couple of years."

He arched a brow, but didn't stop in place as she expected him to. "When did you get this information?"

"Last night. It was a full moon." Hermione said weakly, knowing what was coming as soon as his eyes widened. "I snuck into the forest and found him. In the morning, I knew who he was."

He gave her a harsh look. "Theo noticed you were gone. I thought you just needed to be alone. If I'd know you went into the fucking forest-" Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. "What do you need me to do, hide a werewolf in my flat? I'm sure I can make it work, but Ron may not appreciate sharing the bathroom with anyone else."

Shoulders shaking as she laughed, Hermione shook her head. "No, that wouldn't work. You can't know who he is."

He gave her a strange look. "We can discuss  _that_ later. What can I do to help?"

She slid her hands into her pockets. "Is Dumbledore still sending you on missions? I know you can't tell me what they are, but if you're still in regular contact with him, do you think he may be able to help?"

"I'll talk to him tonight when I meet him." She wanted to ask what the meeting was for, even though it only put more pressure on Harry. It wouldn't be fair when she was asking him to keep her own secrets now. He was allowed his. "Like I said, I'm starved, worked up an appetite last night," He wiggled his eyebrows.

"Gross," Hermione bumped his shoulder with her own. "I don't want to know anything you get up to at night with my brother."

"Want to have lunch with me anyway, or has your usefulness for me ended already?" Harry teased and she looped her arm through his.

* * *

Following her impromptu lunch with Harry, Hermione bid him a quick goodbye before making her way to the nearest Apparition point. She landed in the entryway of the castle, finding herself alone. Winky didn't rush out to meet her as she usually did, and the temperature felt several degrees lower than normal.

"You're home,"

Hermione turned to see Theo leaned against the nearest pillar, his black suit a sharp contrast against the stark white. "I had lunch with Harry."

Theo waved for her to follow him at her explanation. His steps were practically double hers, and Hermione hurried after him. "Father won't be home for a few days." His words were quiet in the empty corridor. "I've just left him."

"Where were you?"

He shook his head, and settled his hand at the middle of her back, ushering her into his bedroom. "I don't want to say where I could be overheard. Not that Father told me so, but I assume he wants to keep you in the dark."

Hermione gave him a hard look, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. Across the hall, Draco was hiding inside her bed chambers. Guilt coiled in her stomach. "But you have no intention of doing that, do you?"

Theo pulled a box from his pocket, and held it out in an outstretched hand. "I think we need to talk." He sighed, taking a seat next to her. "Open it."

The velvet box was light in her lap, and she smoothed her fingers across the black lid. "It's not my birthday yet."

"Not a birthday present," he whispered.

Hermione flipped the lid open, her eyes narrowing at the bracelet. It was a simple bangle, thin and made of white gold. She held it up, watching the precious jewelry twinkle beneath the low light of the chandelier. Magic was flowing through it, an endless loop of layered charms. "No, I think not."

She watched as Theo took her wrist, sliding the bracelet over her hand. Immediately, it tightened around her wrist, and it was blisteringly clear that this was not the type of accessory someone could remove without taking her hand as well. Raising her head, Hermione stared at him.

"We used to use charmed galleons in Hogwarts, and after I graduated while you were still there." Theo began. Of course she remembered; she still had the galleon in her room, nestled at the bottom of her mother's jewelry box. "There may be a need to send longer messages in the future, and our galleons wouldn't be logical."

Fear flitted across his face.

Hermione ran a finger over the thin bracelet, staring at him. "What did you see while you were with him?"

He fell silent, and her stomach sank. "I'm sorry, but I'm not going to tell you. I could," he added, watching her eyes widen. "Except I won't. You would dive head first into it, and I couldn't put you in the middle of it."

It was impossible to be angry with him when she was keeping a monumental secret herself. If it weren't for the already made promise to Draco, she would have told him. Even then, it was on the tip of her tongue.

Her shoulders slipped as her chest deflated. Hermione nodded. "I don't like it, but I understand. One day soon, we'll tell each other all of our secrets." Which seemed to be multiplying every day now.

Theo nodded. "Of course we will." He pushed up his sleeve, baring his right wrist. There flush against his skin was the partner to her own bracelet. "I'll be keeping mine glamoured. You might do the same." A long moment of silence stretched out between them. "How is Potter?"

"Exhausted. He asked me to let you know he wasn't sure he would make it this weekend."

He sighed, nodding his head. "I expected as much. Not that it matters now. I would have to cancel anyway. I'm due to attend a meeting with the Head Auror with Father."

She looked around the room, finding everything still the same as it had ever been. From the wardrobe, to the lamp beside his bed, and the mahogany desk in the corner. It was dizzying to see things that were still the same, even though she knew they  _weren't_ the same. "You never attend meetings."

Sliding his fingers through his hair nervously, he took her hand in his. Theo looked at her with a serious expression that she'd never seen on him before. "He thinks he'll be dead soon. Father is preparing me to make the transition from prince to king."

Had she been holding anything, it would have crashed to the floor. "Why-I don't understand."

"You found his mask a long time ago." Theo murmured. "We've never seen his arms. Don't you think there's a reason for that?"

She remembered the mask, remembered holding it in her hands and wondering in horror what it had been the witness of. Had her father killed while wearing it? The questions weren't easily answered. "He's the King, Theo. It's not possible that he-"

He gave her a long look. "I don't know. It's not as if we can ask him. If I'm right, I believe he's worried about the potential return of You-Know-Who. He fought against Death Eaters at the World Cup, and even after the war...he wasn't supportive."

She didn't want to think about what it would mean if it were true.

"Which, if I were right, would mean that his involvement were covered up." Theo continued. "I asked Potter to look into it."

Hermione croaked, "What? Did you stop to think of what could happen if he  _did_  uncover it and someone else found out?"

"It will be fine."

She wasn't so sure. "I need to talk to you about something soon." Hermione said. Between everything else, the fact that she was only his half sister was weighing heavily on her mind.

"Well, I'm here now if you want."

It was on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't make herself say it out loud. "Soon." She murmured.

* * *

Later in the evening, a letter arrived for Hermione. Her name was written across the front, a scrawl that had greeted her each year in her Hogwarts letter. She ripped it open, the wax seal falling to her bed covers.

Sitting on a comfortable ottoman was Draco, who had crossed his legs as he flipped through a photo album she'd handed to him. His fingers traced the moving pictures within it, but Hermione noticed as his fingers lingered a little while longer on the pictures of her.

_Miss Granger,_

_I have received your application for working under Professor Snape to better prepare for undertaking a Potions Mastery. Such a big undertaking it is, isn't it? I can only imagine how much time it will take, and the long nights of studying-which of course, you've never struggled with._

_If you're available tonight, I shall be in my office between the hours of eight and ten. Otherwise, my schedule is open tomorrow for anytime that will work for you._

_Enclosed is a portkey that will bring you to the entrance of Hogwarts. I'm sure you'll find your way to my office without trouble. The password is 'fizzing whizbees.'_

_Kindest Regards,_

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore._

Casting a quick  _Tempus_ charm, Hermione found it was half past eight. She dressed quickly in a pair of jeans that frequently earned her a scolding by Winky, who muttered that Harry had invited muggle fashions in the castle. She donned a blue jumper, tugging it over her head.

"I have to go, but I'll be back soon." She said, her voice hushed.

He nodded. "I'll be quiet."

She wished to say something else, but he'd already returned to the pictures of the Yule Ball hosted in her fourth year. Not taking the time to cast a spell to smooth and style her mop of curls, Hermione spelled it into a presentable bun on top of her head. Gripping her wand tightly in her hand, she activated the portkey.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So….is it too annoying if I ask you to review and tell me what you think now that Draco is here?
> 
> Next Chapter Snippet: Hermione stared at him. "I can bring him to wherever you intend to house him." She said carefully. While she knew that he was likely safe from the headmaster, it was dangerous to allow anyone else to know. "You understand?"
> 
> The headmaster sighed. "There's a safehouse that is under a Fidelius Charm from the war." He began, opening the bottom drawer of his desk on the right side. "It's the best hiding place I know of, and I will make you the Secret Keeper."


	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for commenting about Draco's 'reveal'. I hope you'll enjoy this next chapter. Alpha love to MykEsprit and beta love to mcal. All remaining mistakes are my own.

 

* * *

From year-to-year, Hogwarts hardly changed. It was the same entryway she recalled from her first year that she landed in. There was not a brick out of place. Nearly Headless Nick floated over her head, his features morphing into a wide grin as he took in the sight of her. "Hermione?"

"Nick," she greeted. She paused a moment to smooth down her hair, and then her rumpled shirt due to being whisked out of her bedroom. "How are you? Looking forward to new first years to prank?"

He floated beside her as she made her way down the corridor and up the stairs. "Summer is always boring, not enough kids to scare."

"You shouldn't scare them anyway. It's not very nice." Her fingers slid along the railing of the stairs as they swung around, bringing her to the next level. "You're eager for the beginning of term, then?"

He bobbed his head, which was a sight considering it appeared to be seconds from falling off. "Always. The teachers get so stuffy toward the end of summer hols. Snape is locked away in his dungeon. He stopped coming for dinner after I put muggle medicine in his pudding last week."

Her head tipped back as she laughed. "What kind of medicine?"

"Well," he drawled, looking both ways before continuing. "I got the idea from a Muggleborn last year. He was being bullied, relentlessly too, by some Slytherins. I overheard him say that Muggles refer to it as a laxative."

She tilted her head to the side. While Hermione knew several things about all things muggle because of Harry, she'd never heard of that. Luckily, she didn't have to ask since the friendly ghost continued.

"It gives you the runs, zero control over your bowel movements." Nick said bluntly.

Hermione nearly toppled off the edge of the stairs. Even as a ghost, Nick reached for her, his hand slipping right through her abdomen. "You did that to  _Snape?_ " She gaped at him. "You're lucky you're already dead."

He waved his hand. "The best part was that potions didn't work to stop it. Considering it was muggle medicine…"

"Yes. Sometimes there are adverse side effects when combining muggle and magical medicines," Hermione deadpanned. "That's exactly why you're not supposed to do it. How did you even slip it into his pudding? You couldn't have done it."

He gave her a sheepish look. "A good ghost never gives away his secrets."

Her eyes narrowed. "All right, I'm not going to ask anymore because truthfully, I don't really want to know." She stopped in front of the Headmaster's office, casting a look over her shoulder. "It was nice to see you again."

Nick grinned before floating away with a flourish.

Hermione whispered the password, still wondering where the conversation would take her, and pushed open the heavy door. The headmaster's office appeared as it always did, an organised piece of total and complete chaos. There were rolls of parchment sitting in a cylindrical container on the desk, the seals still intact. Fawkes was free of his cage, perched on the back of his owner's chair.

Headmaster Dumbledore sat in his chair calmly, his fingers laced together as he gave her an easy smile. "It's been a while, Princess Nott."

Hermione sat in the chair he motioned to while tucking her hair behind her ears. "Just Hermione will do, sir."

"Hermione, then," he repeated. They'd done this several times before, and she already knew that the next meeting would begin with her official title. "If you'll look up, all of the portraits have vacated my office for the night, and shall not return until after your visit."

She gazed up, taking note of the empty rows of portraits, all of the former headmasters kicked from their homes. Squaring her shoulders, she nodded. "I hope it isn't a problem that I asked Harry to deliver a message for me."

He shook his head. "Not at all. I'm quite honoured to receive a summons from you, but what could it be that you can't present to your father? I'm aware of the ties that you have, Hermione, so the urgency is worrying."

She didn't want to think of what would have come if she had told her father. The image of Aurors, and wizards that her father employed for protection, was clear in her mind. They would tear through the forest outside her home and murder her savior in cold blood.

"I need help. It's a lot to ask, but I need a place to hide someone."

His eyes widened, just a fraction, and the familiar twinkle in them vanished. In a second, Headmaster Dumbledore's stare hardened. "Harry mentioned a werewolf, specifically one that saved you the night you were attacked?"

The hair on her arms stood on end as the memory swept through her, the branches digging into her dress, and claws raking down her back. "Yes." Hermione cleared her throat. "Yes, sir. However, it's not just any werewolf. I know him very well. I've known him my entire life."

He blinked. "He attended Hogwarts then?"

She nodded. "Yes, sir. Before I tell you, I want to be sure that his identity will remain completely confidential. I believe he'll be hunted if the secret was ever revealed."

Headmaster Dumbledore tapped his fingers against the table, giving a sharp nod. "Very well, do you require an Unbreakable Vow, Hermione?"

She'd considered it. "No, sir. If Harry trusts you, that's enough for me." Hermione's nails dug into the leather upholstery of her chair as she crossed and uncrossed her legs. "Draco Malfoy is alive."

Seconds ticked by, and she sunk into her seat. It was soft, comfortable below her as she waited for a reaction.

She wasn't disappointed.

Headmaster Dumbledore was a calm wizard, not one to grow angry as some of his fellow staff would. At the exact moment, however, his eyes widened and his mouth fell open. He spluttered as his fingers gripped the edge of his desk. "Alive?" He echoed.

With her heart hammering in her chest still, Hermione nodded. "Yes, sir. Considering how Lucius Malfoy was admanent no one search for Draco in France… I believe Draco was Obliviated."

His fingers tapped against the aged wood, and his head tilted to the side. "A grave accusation," Dumbledore remarked.

She knew that, of course. While sitting in a cave with Draco, and then while formulating a plan to sneak him into her bedroom for the night until she found a safe place, Hermione asked him if there were any memories. If perhaps he'd truly been thought dead, and Lucius hadn't Obliviated him.

But he didn't remember her. He didn't remember racing through the corridors of the castle with Theo while Hermione was close behind after they'd nicked her sweets. He didn't remember her being picked on for her abnormally sized teeth when she was a second year.

He didn't remember anything.

"Can you help me?"

"Where is he?"

Hermione stared at him. "I can bring him to wherever you intend to house him," she said carefully. While she knew that he was likely safe from the headmaster, it was dangerous to allow anyone else to know. "You understand?"

The headmaster sighed. "There's a safehouse that is under a Fidelius Charm from the war." He began, opening the bottom drawer of his desk on the right side. "It's the best hiding place I know of, and I will make you the Secret Keeper."

She lifted her head, staring across the table. "You won't let this slip to Harry? I understand it's not my business, whatever missions you're sending him on, but he can't know. It would put him in a position where he would feel—" Hermione cut herself off, her eyes widening as she realised she'd allowed herself to ramble.

He chuckled under his breath. "I understand it would make him obligated to tell Prince Nott." Just how had  _he_  known about Harry and Theo? "You forget that they were both students here once upon a time. It's not only prefects that patrol the corridors after curfew."

Her nose crinkled at that.  _Gross._ "Thank you, sir."

* * *

Following the meeting, Hermione moved quickly. Luck was on her side as she returned home to an empty entry hall via the personal Floo in Dumbledore's office. Her father was still gone, fortunately, and due to her taking the sneakiest way to her chambers, Hermione heard Harry and Theo in the kitchen.

She swallowed, pressing herself tightly against the wall. The door to the kitchen was ajar, a tiny bit of light streaming through the crack. Rolling her eyes as she knew they were likely raiding the liquor cabinet, she started to creep past.

"—lying to me," Theo said gruffly.

Hermione froze.

Harry's voice was softer, but if Hermione hadn't known him so well, she would have believed him. Yet it was an inevitable lie that left his mouth. "If Hermione were hiding something, she wouldn't tell me."

Her heartbeat quickened in her chest, and she bit the inside of her cheek hard to prevent discovery.

"I'm not stupid,"

"I never said you were!" Harry snapped. "The fact remains that you want someone to blame for her keeping things from you, and you're placing the blame on me now." Several beats of silence passed, seemingly agonisingly slow. "I'm not going to stay for this."

There were footsteps, angry, coming toward her quickly. She shot a glance down the corridor, and prepared to disappear around the corner.

Theo's voice calling out saved her from the door flying open. "Wait!" The footsteps stopped, replaced by Theo's, likely nearing Harry. "I don't want to argue. You're lying; we both know it, Potter, but there's no point in arguing about it now. You'll be gone in the morning. I'd rather—"

Harry snorted. "You'd rather what?"

Hermione escaped before Theo could reply, disappearing around the corner as quickly as she could. Already weighed down by the guilt of forcing Harry to keep secrets, she now knew Theo had probably gotten his hands on the redacted report. It couldn't mean anything good for her at all.

She took the opportunity while they were still in the kitchens to sneak into Theo's room. Hermione dug through the large wardrobe, cramming as many clothes as she could into the beaded bag she carried with her. Thanks to the Undetectable Extension Charm, Hermione snuck out of the room with enough clothes to last Draco a long while.

Letting the door shut softly behind her, Hermione made her way to her own room. It was well into the early morning hours now. She'd gone straight to the safehouse once leaving Hogwarts, cleaning it as quickly as she could, considering it wasn't as if Draco would care whether it was dusty or not. It had been a good idea. Clearly, no one had stepped inside the safehouse since the end of the war.

She found him sitting on her bed, the album she'd left him clutched in his pale fingers. "I thought you weren't coming back." Draco cleared his throat, his finger holding his place in the album. "Which is ridiculous."

Stopping dead in her tracks, her spine meeting the door behind her as it sealed shut, Hermione exhaled. How stupid could she have been to have left for so long? Of course he didn't fucking care about the cleanliness of the safehouse.

Tapping a foot against the floor, Draco glanced around the room. "I figured you'd have no choice but to come back here since you live here."

She crossed the room in five strides, given her shorter stature, and she came to stand in front of him. Poised in between his legs, Hermione reached out with a shaking hand to lift his head. The man in front of her was a far cry from the one she knew, and it broke something in her chest, smashing against it until there was nothing left at all.

Surely the Draco she remembered was somewhere buried beneath it all.

"It was cruel of me to leave for so long. I wasn't thinking," she whispered. "I don't know what I was thinking."

His hand covered hers, the rough calluses of his hands sliding against smooth skin. Tears stung her eyes as he looked up at her. "It wasn't cruel." He replied, his voice a low rasp as he traced the rings on her fingers. "I've lived outside for years, sleeping in forests, and abandoned houses. I've scavenged for food. You're not cruel."

Hermione didn't agree. "There's a safehouse you can live in. I can take you there now."

He traced the lines in her palm. She'd noticed how affectionate he was by then, how he tended to constantly touch her in one way or another. She wondered if it was due to the bond between them, but she wasn't likely to bring it up herself.

Still, the featherlight touches nearly caused her knees to buckle. Before she could embarrass herself, Hermione sat beside him, turning her hand over. The bracelet on her wrist caught in the light, and it served as a hefty reminder of the secret she was currently keeping from her brother downstairs.

"You're upset," he murmured. "Why?"

Admittedly, there were a lot of reasons. None of them she wanted to discuss with anyone. Hermione swallowed. "Just a lot on my mind recently."

"Does that shite line work on everyone who knows you?"

She lifted her head as her lips parted. "Not usually, but once I say it, no one pushes the subject."

He smirked. "They're not very bright."

It earned a laugh from her. "I don't want to talk about it."

Draco nodded, letting her hand fall from his. "We should leave, shouldn't we? Before anyone discovers me?"

* * *

She'd slept in the safehouse on the first night he stayed there, unable to help herself when he asked her to. He gave her a smile, one that made her freeze in place as he looked at her. So Hermione had slept in the bed, and he had slept on the far opposite side of it, promising that he would keep his hands to himself.

It was a lie, but it was difficult to remain angry when Hermione woke draped across his chest. He'd peeled his shirt off at some point, and she let herself lay there, listening to his relaxed breathing.  _Still asleep,_ she thought, and Hermione traced a jagged scar that went up his right side, and across his stomach to his left pectoral. It was waxy to the touch, an old scar that would have still scarred even if he'd had access to dittany.

Pretending to still be asleep when he'd stirred hadn't worked, most likely, but Draco hadn't said anything at all. Instead, he chose to leave her in bed, covering her with the blanket, and leaving the room with one last look at her.

That had been a week ago.

She passed Theo in the corridors of the castle, plastering a smile on her face as they made small talk before she would return to her potions lab. She was quick to make batches of Wolfsbane that month, knowing how quickly time would pass before the full moon was on them once again.

Not one day went by without going to the safehouse, and she was certain the tangling feelings in the pit of her stomach were leading her somewhere. Akin to a crush, which she was familiar with, Hermione did her best to scrub it from her mind. He would get his memories back—she was still working out the  _how_ —and she would return to being Theo's little, swotty, sometimes annoying sister.

Hermione passed Harry in Diagon Alley as she hurried down the street. Brushing shoulders with him even, but she neglected to say anything at all. He called her name, his voice quieting as she bustled into Ollivander's.

The bell dinged above her head as she stood at the back of the room, watching as eager children waited to get their wands. With all that had happened in the prior weeks, she'd forgotten that the term was starting. Quietly taking a seat on a stack of wooden crates, Hermione patiently waited.

She created a game of it for herself, scrutinising each young witch or wizard from her seat, wondering who in the world they would turn out to be. So far, she'd guessed for three Gryffindors, four Ravenclaws, two Slytherins, and six Hufflepuffs. If she were right, at least. Eventually, someone noticed her, a parent of one of the children. Hermione smiled, waving to the small crowd as they poured out of the exit.

Mr Ollivander beamed as he enveloped her in a hug. "Oh, it's so good to see you, Princess. However can I help you today?"

Hermione smiled, swallowing her nerves, as well as the lump in her throat. "Oh, I just need to pick up a replacement wand. You're terribly busy. Could I just…?" She trailed off.

He took another glance at the crowd, and she thought he might put up more of an argument. "I suppose, but be careful! There's a large stack of wands that might topple over at any given moment,"

She flashed him a smile. "Of course, Mr Ollivander. I'll be gone in a moment."

* * *

The box housing the wand fit snugly into the inner pocket of her cloak, and Hermione made her way to the Apparition point before Disapparating with a crack.

Draco didn't look up from his book as she landed in the living room, only a few steps away from where he lounged on the sofa. "Can you cast a Patronus charm?" He asked, still not looking up.

"Yes, we learned the mechanics in our seventh year, but it was Harry who practiced with us. He started a club outside of classes since our Defence Against the Dark Arts was grossly incompetent." She sat next to him, unclipping her cloak and letting it fall to the sofa. "Are you reading my old textbooks?"

He nodded, turning the page. "The Defence Against the Dark Arts position is cursed, isn't it?"

"They say it is," Hermione replied, leaning forward and peering over his shoulder. "I've never seen any proof of it."

Draco finally looked at her, but his head snapped up so quickly she jumped in her seat. He arched an eyebrow. "You mean to say that you haven't been convinced by the fact that no one could stay for longer than a year?"

Hermione shrugged. "Well, when you put it  _that_  way."

"Where did you go?"

She shuffled, pulling the box from her cloak. "Here," Hermione held it out to him, her heart clenching as he reached for it.

Draco slowly opened the box. He carefully laid the lid on the coffee table before moving the tissue paper to the side. "This is mine?" His voice was thick, and for a moment, she feared that she'd overstepped.

That he wasn't ready.

"Yes. It's a near replica of the one you had before you vanished. I thought you might like to have it." Hermione laced her fingers together. "But if I was wrong, I'm sorry. I can take it back if—"

An arm wrapped around her shoulder, easily pulling her across the sofa and into the curve of his hard body. Her breath caught in her throat, and she nervously slid her arms around his waist. He smelled of sandalwood, and a cologne she knew he'd found in the back of the bathroom cupboard over the sink.

But there was something else. Pulling back with a light laugh under her breath, Hermione asked, "Did you use my shampoo?"

Silence.

"I bought you your own." She laughed. "You like it then?" Hermione gestured toward the wand.

Draco's fingers wrapped around it, his index finger resting against the top of the wand. Experimentally, he flicked it toward the wall. Nothing happened, but it did nothing to wipe away the smile curving his lips. He nodded. "Thank you. It means… it means a great deal to me that you go to so much trouble."

The fact of it was that Hermione had constantly found herself eager to go through 'trouble' for him, but it wasn't any trouble. She cared.

"Something is bothering you again." He spun the wand between his fingers, staring at it instead of her as he spoke. "Still don't want to talk about it?"

"No, but there is something." Hermione fell quiet, watching his turn to her, watching his eyes darken as he took in her hesitation. "Theo is visiting Malfoy Manor tomorrow. He's making the visit to Lucius in my father's place. I've been invited as well, for the sake of being polite."

Draco's nostrils flared, seeing right through her. "What are you planning to do, Hermione?" Perhaps he felt the anxiety sloshing around the pit of her stomach, or maybe she wasn't as good at keeping secrets as she thought.

Well, she was planning to drug his father with Veritaserum and steal a slew of memories that would prove Lucius Malfoy was guilty, but she didn't say that. "Nothing bad," she lied.

"I hardly believe that." He muttered, raking his fingers through his hair. "Any chance I can convince you not to go?" Draco's finger slid along her arm, and he smirked when she shivered.

She shook her head. "But I'll come back here to you immediately after." Hermione promised.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading another chapter! The next has one of my favorite Draco and Hermione scenes, and picks up right where this left off.
> 
> Next Chapter Sneak Peek: She feigned a sheepish look. "You know I've always loved this library." Not turning her back to him, Hermione reached his desk in two strides. "I actually had a few questions if you wouldn't mind sitting with me?"
> 
> Lucius waved his hand, taking a seat on one of the leather couches. Seizing the chance as it presented itself, Hermione withdrew the vial from her dress in a solitary movement, dumping the contents into his tea.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a mistake in last update's notes. It's the chapter after this that's one of my favorites. So sorry! Thank you to MykEsprit for alpha reading and mcal for beta reading.

 

* * *

Early the next morning, before Theo could send a message through her bracelet, Hermione woke. She slid out of the bed, stepping into her shoes as she grabbed her robe from the hook in the corner of the room. Clearly, it had been too much to hope for that she would be able to sneak away without rousing Draco.

By the time she turned around, he was seated in the centre of the bed, his legs crossed as he yawned. Over the last week, they had grown comfortable with the other, so comfortable that Draco voiced aloud he didn't understand why her cheeks caught fire when he threw his shirt on the floor before they slept. Or maybe he did, and just let it go when she gave him another nonanswer. And for yet another morning, she'd found herself draped across his chest, fingers splayed against his scars. They seemed to be constantly gravitating toward one another, consistently meeting in the middle.

Hermione cleared her throat. "I need to get home before Theo realises I'm gone." Wind knocked against the window pane, drowning out her soft voice. "I'll see you before the sun sets."

Draco slid off the bed, padding toward her. He lifted her head by tucking a knuckle beneath her chin. From his smirk, he probably felt her swallow uneasily. "You'll be safe there?" He rumbled.

Well, she didn't truly know. There was no reason for Lucius to perceive her as anything more than a rebellious princess, but any number of things could go wrong in an attempt to drug him. "I don't think anything will happen, no."

"Not a reassuring answer," He traced her jawline, ending near her ear where he tucked her hair behind it. "Don't endanger yourself on my account. I've come this far without my memories. I could live without them."

"That's not fair."

He deserved to remember everything about his life. She was furious that it had been taken from him seemingly without a second thought.

Outside the window, the sun was breaking against the horizon. Hues of oranges and reds painted the sky. Hermione leaned into the palm cupping her cheek. "Stay out of trouble while I'm gone."

"The worst thing I could do is fuck up a spell."

She laughed. "Well, that can be dangerous, you know." Hermione stepped away from him, fastening her cloak around her neck. "See you soon." She murmured and vanished on the spot.

* * *

Thankful that her father was away on a trip, Hermione made her way from the entry hall to her bedroom with no one being the wiser. Once inside, she threw her cloak on the bed, letting her clothes fall to the floor in a pile, and took a long soak in the bath connected to her room.

She sunk below the hot water, sighing as she let her head rest against the edge of the tub. Already she had the urge to return to the safehouse. Her eyes fluttered shut as she wondered what Draco was doing right that moment. She imagined that he might have gone back to sleep, but sincerely doubted it. When it came to her leaving, especially since he knew she was up to no good, Hermione didn't think the wolf would have let him rest at all. Perhaps he'd already flipped open one of her textbooks, reading through the spells he'd already learned once.

She wondered frequently how long it would take for him to get to where he had once been. It was hope that kept her determination to retrieve his memories alive, hope that maybe if she managed to restore them, Draco would be able to remember exactly how to use magic. In her late night readings, while Draco sat beside her practicing charms, she knew it wouldn't be so simple.

If Draco had been Obliviated-and she was sure he had been, given all of the signs-the only way to reverse the effects would be for the original spell caster to do so. She dunked her head below the water as she was reminded that Lucius would never cooperate. That was  _if_ it had been him, which she strongly suspected.

Minutes ticked by as she wondered about Draco, about what her visit to Malfoy Manor would bring, until her bath water grew cold. As she wrapped a bathrobe around her, tying it in the front, Hermione dried her hair.

"Hermione," Theo knocked on the door twice. "Are you nearly done?"

"Yes." She called, gripping the edge of the counter. "Once I'm dressed, I'll be ready to leave. Are we due so soon?"

"No," his voice came through the wood. "I wanted to have breakfast before we left. There's something I want to tell you."

It didn't sound promising. "Be right down," Hermione replied, and waited to hear her bedroom door shut.

* * *

Theo sat at the far end of the table, his normal seat, and she took the place across from him. Smoothing her skirt down as the chair was pulled out for her, Hermione watched him. His hands curled into fists, and his jaw was clenched so tightly his teeth could crack. "Theo?"

"That will be all." He cleared his throat, speaking to the house elves. "Please clear the room, and let no one in."

Winky shot Hermione a panicked glance, but followed the rest of the elves from the room, immediately closing the doors behind them. Hermione watched her brother cast a silencing spell around them, warily eyeing their surroundings.

"Theo?" She repeated.

"Father's mask is gone." He said bluntly, sipping his pumpkin juice. "I was in his personal study this morning looking over legislation that he left me to read. While looking for a quill, I realised there was something missing from the bottom right drawer of his desk."

She sat frozen in her seat, staring at her older brother with wide eyes. "That doesn't-it doesn't mean-Theo?"

He blinked, sighing to himself as he pushed his plate away from him. "I think you should prepare yourself for the worst now, Hermione." He pushed a folded piece of parchment across the table. "There's a portkey inside of it. I want you to promise me that at the first sign of trouble, you'll use it."

"Where would it take me?" The lights flickered above them as he shook his head. "You don't know?"

Theo's nod was barely there. "It's safer if I don't know where you are, but I promise you'll be safe."

She unfolded the parchment, taking a long look at the skeleton key tucked away inside of it. It was heavy in her hand, traces of magic running through it. "Where did you get this?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters. What aren't you telling me? First, you give me this bracelet for my protection. Now you're telling me Father's mask has vanished and I'm to run at the first sign of danger? I won't do it."

His eyes flashed. "Don't argue with me, Hermione."

"Then tell me the truth!"

His fist slammed against the top of the table. "Why don't we just exchange secrets then? What about that? You're keeping several of them now, and you've enlisted Harry's help to do so. I have no idea where you are at night, but I know you haven't slept here in a week." He gritted his teeth. "Where are you staying?"

The weight of her own lies threatened to break the floor below her, dragging her with them. It was on the tip of her tongue:  _Draco is alive. You were right. I can take you to him. Please forgive me._ Hermione shook her head. "I already told you I was with someone, Theo. You know as well as I that father is an impossible man to please."

"I know that you're a shite liar, and you always have been."

She grimaced.

"If this was about love, you'd have stormed up to him and told him that you would make the decisions. Yet you haven't, so don't think me daft." He vanished his breakfast. "It's one of two things as I see it."

Hermione didn't ask how he saw it, too fearful he might hit it right on the head in one guess.

"Either you're meeting with someone who isn't a Pureblood, or you're keeping a secret that could bring the world down on your head."

 _I'm so sorry._ Hermione schooled her features, leaning back in her chair. "I can't tell you anything. I'm so sorry."

Theo ran a hand down his face, groaning. "Eat your breakfast. We'll be leaving soon. Even if you plan to chuck that over the castle wall the first chance you get, at least pretend to pocket it for my sake of mind." He left her with that, his footfalls heavy against the floors as he flung the door open.

Staring at the food before her, Hermione had already lost her appetite.

* * *

Hermione visited her lab in the dungeons before meeting Theo at the Floo. He said nothing as they stepped into the Floo together, reaching for a handful of powder, and calling out, "Malfoy Manor!"

They were whisked away in plumes of green smoke, the ground changing below her footing as they landed in the connected fireplace. Theo stepped out first, turning and offering his hand. "You always trip over the ledge," he muttered. "Can't have you embarrassing me."

She nodded, knowing that any other day she would have laughed at his statement. Hermione's lips curved into a polite smile as a servant took her cloak, leaving her arms cold to the draft manor. She hadn't set foot inside of the estate since Narcissa Malfoy hosted a memorial service for her son. Following that, neither she nor Theo had any desire to return.

"Your Majesty," Narcissa greeted, dropping to curtsey.

Hermione wore a mask of faux politeness. "Narcissa, it's lovely to see you. You're looking well."

Considering how the woman had looked the last time, gaunt and frail, it was the truth.

Narcissa slipped an arm through Hermione's, guiding her to the drawing room. "The elves have just prepared tea." Before Hermione could say anything else, she was pulled away from Theo.

Hermione shot a dark look toward Theo, mouthing, " _Hurry up, would you?"_

* * *

She sat through the news that she would have been interested in, had she grown up to be a gossiping socialite. Hermione smiled when necessary from behind her tea cup, managing a laugh when Narcissa told a joke even when they weren't funny, and pretended that she wasn't there for any other reason than to keep Narcissa company.

So far, she'd learned that Pansy Parkinson was engaged to Blaise Zabini. Narcissa thought the swift engagement and wedding that was slated for the next month was due to an accidental pregnancy, but Hermione was to  _not_ breathe a word of it.

Hermione's gaze strayed, an impolite thing to do when she should have been giving her full attention, but her blood ran cold as she saw the portrait on the wall. Draco's likeness stared down at her from over the mantle, his eyes gray, but the pigment wasn't the right colour at all. One eye was lighter than the other. Her throat threatened to close as she remembered the only reason she'd come at all.

"Do you think of him often?" Narcissa asked quietly. "He and Theo were always inseparable, but you went along with them more often than not."

It was easy to forget that Draco had been her friend once upon a time as well when he didn't remember it. Before Hogwarts, before meeting Ron and Harry, Draco and Theo had been the only Purebloods she could stand.

"It's a terrible thing." Hermione replied. She watched the woman, carefully gauging her reaction. Would Narcissa have been able to leave her only son for dead? Hermione wasn't sure. "Theo misses him more with each passing day."

Narcissa choked. "As do I. I wish I had been there."

Hermione looked to her, reaching across and squeezing the woman's hand. "You would have died had you been there. If Lucius couldn't…" Tears stung her eyes, and Hermione quickly wiped her face. "It isn't your fault."

The blonde clasped Hermione's hand in her own with a teary smile. "You're much too kind to me, Your Majesty."

As she shifted, the vial of Veritaserum pressed into the side of her dress. Hermione nodded. "May I use the loo?"

Narcissa ushered her off, and Hermione took the opportunity to hurry up the staircase, and make her way down the hallway. She wasn't sure where Lucius would be, or how she would catch him outside of his meeting with her brother.

"-rubbish law," Theo's voice echoed down the corridor, and Hermione pressed herself into the nearest room.

As the door sealed behind her, Hermione recognised the Malfoy library, a broad expanse of a room that she'd spent a large chunk of her childhood. Hermione strode across the room, busying herself in case anyone walked in. As it were, there was a fresh cup of tea on the desk, and someone could return at any moment.

She was right. Moments later, as Theo's footsteps trailed down the corridor, growing fainter and fainter, the door opened. "Your Majesty," Lucius called, closing the door softly behind him. "I knew Narcissa's gossip would bore you eventually."

She feigned a sheepish look. "You know I've always loved this library." Not turning her back to him, Hermione reached his desk in two strides. "I actually had a few questions if you wouldn't mind sitting with me?"

Lucius waved his hand, taking a seat on one of the leather couches.

She glanced at the tea service. "Might I pour you a cup of tea?" Hermione asked politely.

"That would be kind of you, Your Majesty."

Most Veritaserum had a particular taste to it, but she'd been experimenting with a batch to go undetected. Carefully, she pulled the vial from the inside of her dress before dumping the contents into his cup. Hermione crossed the room. handing the cup to him, her fingers brushing his before sitting down.

Lucius took a long drink of the tea, laying his cane across the table in front of him. "What questions did you have?"

Hermione fidgeted with her wand, conspicuously looking to the cane that housed his own. "Is Draco alive?"

His eyes widened. "Yes." Lucius' hand flew to his mouth as he shot forward for his cane.

" _Incarcerous!"_ Hermione cast quickly, watching as ropes appeared, tying him to the sofa. "You're a real bastard, aren't you?" She cast a silencing spell before locking the door. "Does your wife know you left Draco to die by choice? Does she know that you Obliviated your own son so he couldn't find his way home?"

"She doesn't know." He glared at her.

She clutched her wand close to her chest. If he were to get free of the ropes, Hermione wasn't entirely sure what she would do. Stun him, probably, but it might not get her far. "How could you leave him? He's your son!"

"A werewolf has no place in my family. If the gods had been looking kindly on him, he would be dead now."

Her heart hammered in her chest. "Did you extract the memory?"

"Yes."

"Where is the pensieve?"

He clenched his jaw. "In my private study, you vile little bitch."

"Are there other memories of him inside of the pensieve?"

"There are memories of Draco in Narcissa's."

"Where is it?"

"Our bedroom, west wing, last room on the right."

Hermione nodded. "He's alive, you know. And you won't remember this, but I swear I'll make you pay for what you've done." Muttering a " _Stupefy,"_ Hermione stunned him before Obliviating him herself, and rendering him unconscious.

Barely catching her breath, she released him from the bindings and fled from the library.

* * *

Hermione extracted the memories from both pensieves without fail. No one was on the top floor as she flitted from the private study into the last bedroom on the right. Carefully storing the memories, wispy little things, in a necklace around her neck, Hermione made her way down two flights of stairs.

Only to be stopped dead in her tracks by a familiar voice. Hermione pressed her back to the wall, listening to the conversation on the other side.

"Your father asked you to relay a message, boy?" It was a man's voice, gruff, agitated, and familiar. Hermione wasn't sure she'd ever heard it in her life however. "Out with it then."

"My father asked I inform you that he's prepared to fulfill his debt to the Dark Lord." Theo said smoothly.

She nearly barrelled into the room before she could stop herself.  _Dark Lord? Debt?_ She'd known Theo was keeping his own secrets, but she hadn't pressed the issue when she had her own.

Clearly, neither of them had come to Malfoy Manor for social calls.

Bile rose in her throat as she peeked through the crack along the hinge of the door. She recognised the man, but then there was the woman standing just behind him. They should have been in Azkaban, sealed away for the heinous crimes, but she knew as well as anyone else that the Lestranges had escaped.

She stumbled away from the room, her legs nearly buckling as she couldn't escape fast enough.

* * *

The Apparition point outside of Malfoy Manor was in the middle of the garden, and considering she couldn't use the Floo since she'd have to shout the name of the safehouse, Hermione had complimented Narcissa on the garden she maintained, and excused herself for a short walk to clear her head. Behind the tallest hedge, she took a deep breath, and Disapparated.

She landed in the living room, her legs immediately giving out from under her as she crashed to the floor. Draco was at her side in an instant, his hand steadying her at the small of her back as he helped her sit upright. "I'm alright." She voiced, lifting her head to look at him.

His brows were drawn together, and he didn't appear to believe her. "What happened?"

Hermione hiccuped as tears slipped down her face. "My father is a Death Eater." She whispered, her voice cracking. "There were Death Eaters inside of the manor, and I was just steps away from them. Theo was talking to them about a debt my father owes the Dark Lord."

He rubbed circles in her back. "Were you seen?"

She shook her head. "No, I got Lucius alone. The Lestranges were with Theo. Bloody hell, I have no idea if Theo is a Death Eater."  _He wouldn't,_ she told herself, but he'd been there talking with Death Eaters on their father's account...

"Hey," Draco sat in front of her, taking her hands into his own. "Take a deep breath before you hyperventilate."

She hung her head, her hair slipping from the pins in her hair. "Merlin, I've been so naive." Hermione allowed him to draw her into his arms, to wrap her up securely against him. "I got the memories of your attack, of the Obliviation." She whispered the words into his skin, slipping her arms around his waist.

"Thank you."

"I took several of your mother's memories as well. I thought you'd like to see your childhood." Hermione laid her head on his shoulder. "There's no way to fully restore them, not without Lucius."

Draco shook his head. "Stay away from him. Stay away from Malfoy Manor if you can. It's not safe."

She stiffened. "I could protect myself."

He laughed a low laugh next to her ear. "I believe you, but I worried what might happen to you when I couldn't reach you."

If she pulled on what he was mentioning, the string would unravel and she would be led to the question regarding werewolf mates. "I would come back."

Draco swallowed, lifting her with him as he stood. "I would hope so. Or else I'll tear anyone apart who prevented it." Following her stare, he grimaced. "That sounded possessive. I didn't mean-I just meant that if anyone ever hurt you, I would-"

Hermione placed her hand over his mouth. "I feel the same way about you, but with less tearing and more wandwork."

The bed was soft below her as he laid her on her side, and she pulled the necklace from her neck. "There's a pensieve that I bought yesterday in the living room. You can view these memories." Hermione pressed them into his palm. "I'm not sure if you're inviting me to stay the night because I'm upset, but I can go home if you prefer."

He gripped the vials tightly, and they likely cut into his palm. "Stay?" Draco asked quietly. "I'll watch these while you sleep."

She gave a sleepy smile before rolling onto her side. "Goodnight, Draco."

His fingers brushed her hair as he murmured a goodnight. She burrowed into the pillow, inhaling the scent of him as she imagined fingers running down her back as she drifted.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, more plot! I'm so ready to get to the war, you just have no idea.
> 
> Next Chapter Snippet: Hermione tucked hair behind her ear. "I don't know. I always believed you thought of me as a sister."
> 
> He choked, levelling a stare at her, slowly reaching up to cup her cheek. His thumb swiped across her bottom lip, causing them to part in surprise. "Oh, Hermione, I definitely don't think of you as a sister. The things I think—they're not acceptable for a sister."


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my favorite chapters since it's dramione all of the way through. Thank you MykEsprit for alpha reading, and mcal for beta reading!

 

* * *

He poked his head into the bedroom, reassuring himself that she was still snuggled up in the bed they shared. The need to reassure himself was so ridiculous that he couldn't stand it, but he knew why. While she had been gone throughout the day, he kept himself as busy as he did every day.

Knowing his existence was now so entwined with hers didn't bother him. It never had, not even when they met in the forest. He watched her slow, steady rise and fall of her chest. She clenched the sheets in a balled fist when she slept, always ready for a fight.

The corner of his mouth twitched. The woman snoring before him didn't look like she could handle her own, but she delighted in proving him wrong. He sighed as she rolled over, a frown twisting her lips. Draco exited the room, muttering that it was creepy to watch a sleeping woman no matter how enamoured he was with her.

The door shut softly behind him, the lock clicking, and he sensed the magic washing over the door frame. Though he hadn't met the wizard named Dumbledore who had granted him asylum, at least not that he could remember, Draco could sense his strength through the wards.

Hermione had wondered out loud earlier why Dumbledore had done it. Surely the safe house would have been warded the same all the way through. He had said she talked too much, and she flicked his nose.

In the years that had passed since his mauling, Draco had never met anyone who was so playful. So open and accepting; at first, he was certain the little witch in the next room couldn't, shouldn't, be trusted.

He sunk into the cushions of the couch, glaring at the pensieve on the wooden table before him. If she wasn't his mate, maybe he would have left her to the other werewolf.

No, he wouldn't have. Even after the things he'd done himself, Draco couldn't have left her. But he would have deserted her, not led her to where he slept.

Seeing her was like the world sharpening into crystal clear focus as he committed her features to memory. It terrified the shite out of him unlike anything else, wanting to be near her, needing to touch her, his heart clenching when she was in danger.

Draco wasn't sure what sort of woman Hermione would become, but if it was anything like what she'd been, he didn't think the heart palpitations would stop anytime soon.

The vial she pressed into his hand laid on the table, crooked along the length of the pensieve. It was her personal pensieve. Watching her stumble through the Floo with it was a sight, given the size of it. Why anyone would ever need one so large, he didn't know.

Grumbling to himself, Draco dumped the contents of the vial into the pensieve. Wispy plumes of smoke swirled in the basin, beckoning him closer. He looked behind him, half sure Hermione would have appeared to encourage him. He wasn't afraid, he  _wasn't._ Draco swallowed, sinking to his knees on the hard floor, and leaned forward.

* * *

" _Nott," someone barked, their voice angry, and there was the sound of scattering parchment. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"_

_Draco watched from across the memory, his fists clenching at his sides when he recognised the girl. His eyes narrowed as he took in the sight._

_Hermione was arguing with another boy, his robes green, and he leered at her. He'd thrown her bag, and knocked everything from her hands, hence the scattered parchment._

_And then a former version of Draco rounded the corner._

_They looked nothing alike. This version of himself had shorter hair, expertly gelled like the wizards he'd seen in nicer pubs, the ones he used to pickpocket. His robes were immaculate, a green and silver pin fastened to his robes that he couldn't place, but he knew it. He did, and it was infuriating to know he didn't truly remember it at all._

_Perhaps viewing the memories had been a mistake._

_She was shorter, but he would have known her attitude anywhere after the last two weeks. A younger Hermione lifted her head, glaring at the wizard across from her. "Go away, Crabbe. You're nothing without your friends anyway!" She snapped._

" _Stop him!" Draco roared as Hermione was slammed to the stone wall by her throat, a sharp gasp tearing free of her throat. It was hopeless. It was a living memory, one he couldn't change even if he wanted to step into the thick of it and rip Crabbe's throat out._

_The other him, a calmer version than the current, grabbed the back of the wizard's robes. He hauled him backward, and Hermione dropped to the floor. The shiny black shoes she wore were scuffed in the fall, and she scrambled to her feet. Then, her eyes were blown open as she fumbled for the wand in her pocket._

_He questioned why he hadn't drawn his own wand._

_If he had, it would have prevented Crabbe's, "Densaugeo!"_

_Hermione's hands flew to her mouth, and Draco was horrified to see her two front teeth growing at an alarming rate._

_Crabbe laughed loudly while Draco trained a wand at his throat, watching Hermione's eyes fill with tears. "Guess it didn't work. I don't see a difference."_

_He was going to kill Crabbe, Draco decided. Someday._

_Another boy came around the corner, and the realisation slammed into Draco. Theo, who he'd been raised alongside. Theo, Hermione's older brother, the one that had returned to France to look for him._

_The one who hadn't given up on him._

_Theo grabbed Crabbe by the front of his robes, not bothering with a wand, and slammed him into the wall. Hit after hit landed, the sound of bones breaking piercing the air. "Get her to the hospital wing!" Theo snapped without looking backward._

_He watched as Hermione allowed Draco to slide an arm around her shoulders and guide her down the corridor._

_Before the memory could vanish, he was overcome by the thought that he'd been a coward. Had he always been?_

* * *

_His feet hit the ground hard._

_A tall blond man stood before him, a cane in his hand as he spoke with a severe voice to a servant. "Due to your gross negligence, my son broke his arm."_

_Draco's eyes scanned the room, and he found a small child, assumed to be himself, sitting on the sofa while nursing a broken arm. His nose was busted up, the skin beneath his eye bruised._

" _Please don't yell at Menna, Father!" The little boy cried, and Draco caught the cruel glint of his father's eyes as he smiled._

_Yes, this was a man who would take away all of his memories. "Draco, go find your mother now."_

_The little boy listened. He slid off the sofa, clutching a plush dragon to his chest that caused something in Draco's mind to dislodge. Following the closing door, Draco considered why this was a memory tucked away in the first place._

_He'd read about pensieves before he ever agreed to use one, talking the entire scenario through with Hermione. The only reason for his father to have stored this would be if it was damning, something he couldn't have in his own mind for whatever reason._

" _Please, Mr Malfoy—" Menna sobbed. Her face was streaked with tears, remnants of makeup staining her cheeks. "He's such a sweet little boy. I would never purposely hurt him. Please, Mr Malfoy."_

 _His dragonhide gloves creaked as he gripped his cane tighter. Flashing her a smile, one that_ could  _have been forgiving, he brought the cane down across her face in an instant. There was little doubt it hadn't broken her nose, and Lucius brought it down in a sweeping arc once more. This time, the handle met just under her eye._

_She screamed, the sound making the hair on Draco's arms rise as she fell to the floor. Even as she was lying in a heap, pleading through her sobs for mercy, Lucius didn't let up._

" _You broke his nose."_

" _I didn't!" She screamed. "He fell off his broom in the courtyard."_

_Draco was astounded she could speak in complete sentences as she writhed on the floor._

" _Who let him on the broom?" Lucius sneered. He paused above her. "When he fell into the rose bush, he could have lost an eye. Should I take yours?"_

_Draco thought he would vomit as the cane came down with such force it cracked her skull. Blood seeped from the wound, trickling down her face as she accepted what was coming._

_He'd seen it before._

_He'd felt it before too._

_Lucius withdrew his wand, and Draco forced himself to watch the incantation._

_As the memory twisted away, his stomach lurched._

* * *

" _You're sure you have to go to France?" Theo asked._

_They stood at the top of the castle, Hermione several steps away as she set on the ledge. The wind was gentle, but Draco couldn't take his eyes off her at first. She wasn't the centre of this memory, but he watched her read, watched a small smile creep across her face as she did._

" _Yes," Draco replied, combing his fingers through his hair. The strands hardly moved due to the gel. "It shouldn't be a long trip. Surely you can live without me for a week?"_

_Theo scoffed. "I'll be perfectly fine."_

" _Oh, don't lie to save face. I know you'll miss me. You can't live without me."_

_His best friend rolled his eyes. "Of course I could live without you, you bloody egotistical prat."_

_The oxygen vanished from Draco's lungs, the colour draining his face. Looking at the scene before him, the last thing Theo had ever said to him, and Hermione muttered how they were attached to the hip, he knew._

_Theo was utterly devastated and Draco didn't think he could meet him yet._

_He sucked in a harsh breath as a heavy loss settled in his chest, one he'd been fortunate enough to never remember._

* * *

The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he went to bed. Hermione cracked one eye open, scooting over to make room for him as she'd sprawled out in the middle of the bed. "What time is it?" She yawned.

Draco slid an arm around her waist, pulling across the linen sheets. He tucked her into his chest, his palm flattening against her back as he rested his chin on top of her head. "Just after three," he answered, voice hoarse and weary.

She tried to look up at him, but he shook his head. "Are you okay?" Hermione slid a hand up his arm, softly squeezing his shoulder. "Would you like to talk about it?"

A heavy silence fell. She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. Of course he wouldn't want to talk about how overwhelming it was to be handed a bundle of memories, and told, "Here, these are yours."

"I'm sorry. I-"

He cleared his throat. "It would likely be best if I did talk about it, but none of it is very pleasant. I don't want you to hear it."

Hermione sat up in bed, crossing her legs as she stared at him. "I can handle unpleasant things. Who do you take me for? A sheltered princess who knows nothing?" She bit her lip at the backhanded question, knowing it was foolish. "Anything you saw, you can tell me. I know what sort of man your father is. He and my father are rather close."

Grey eyes narrowed and his grip on her knee tightened. "You see Lucius often?" he growled.

A chill unfurled on her spine as she nodded. "More often than I'd like to now, especially after today." She rubbed her forearms, staring out the window over his head. "The full moon is in two weeks."

He looked away from her. "We'll come back to that. Don't ever be alone with my father." Draco demanded, his thumb swiping across her knee. "I know you're so fucking headstrong that it drives me mad-"

She laughed. "I don't mean to drive you mad."

He swallowed, staring at her like she was the only thing that mattered at all, and she wasn't prepared for how it made her heart pound. "Believe me, you don't have to try." He replied, his voice ragged. "He murdered a nanny in the manor."

Chills erupted across her body. "What?" It was a whisper, quiet compared even to the soft wind outside the window, or to the way the window pane rocked in a loose spot. "Did you see?"

"No. I fell of a broom. I was injured. I-"

"-broke your arm, nose, and bruised your eye." Hermione finished. There was a hollow spot in her chest as dread washed over her. "I was on the broom with you. It was the first time anyone convinced me."

His expression turned to one of horror. "You were there? He sent me out of the drawing room, and,"

She nodded. "I didn't break anything. You broke my fall when we landed in the bush. With all my weight on you, it was no wonder you-which nanny was it?"

"Menna."

A violent crack of thunder sounded outside, the skies opening up as expected rain began to pour. Draco pulled her into his lap as he sat up, and she couldn't think long enough to decide against straddling him.

"What did he do to her?" She whispered into his bare shoulder. Again, he'd discarded his shirt. "She was always our favourite, you know. Menna adored us all. You, Theo, and I. She could never have kids. I overheard it once while the servants were talking in the kitchens. She was barren." Hermione knew he didn't remember, so she tried to give a piece back, even if it was as broken as it was. "She treated us like hers."

He massaged small circles into her back. "Tell me about her before I tell you how she died?"

Hermione nodded, hot tears pooling in her eyes. "She used to sneak us sweets in the middle of the night. Lucius told me once that I wasn't acting like an ideal lady once, and I cried. I felt so disappointed in myself as he spoke ill of me to my own father. Menna found me in the west wing of the Manor where no one went, crying my heart out."

His chin rested against her skin, his breath fanning across her neck. "Did she make you feel better?"

"Menna said that there were all sorts of princesses, and there was no one who could tell me what kind I would be." She hiccuped. She'd known when Menna vanished that she hadn't been fired. "She used to sing us to sleep when we all stayed in Malfoy Manor. You and Theo were inseparable, and I was just there. Theo was my first friend. He forced you to be my second."

He chuckled, the sound vibrating against her skin as her heartbeat quickened. "He had to force me?"

With a shrug of her shoulders, Hermione whispered, "You thought I was annoying. You didn't like me very much."

"When did that change?"

If he could feel her smile against his shoulder, Draco didn't say anything. "Probably about the time there was an arranged play date for the three of us, and a slew of other children. Zabini told me I was too ugly to be a princess."

"Did I hit him?" Draco asked seriously.

"Not that I know of. You pulled him outside the room, and when the pair of you came back, he apologised to me. I asked you why you did it, and you told me that you were the only one allowed to be mean to me, no one else. It was sweet."

"Well," he sighed. "I hope I hit him." Draco stopped rubbing her back, locking his arms around her waist. "Are you sure you want to know?"

She gulped. "I'll always wonder if I don't ask."

"He beat her with his cane, broke her arm, her nose, and asked if she ought to lose an eye since I nearly lost mine." He squeezed her as her sob broke against him. "I wanted to help her, but I couldn't do anything. I was-it was-he cracked her skull open, and she knew."

Hermione's mind worked to create an image of Menna, who she could now barely remember clearly. "I can't imagine."

His lips pressed to the base of her throat, and she wasn't sure if he'd kissed her, or if he was just laying his head there. "Thank you for placing your own memories into the pensieve."

"Did you see anything interesting?"

"The memory of Crabbe, why did you give it to me? Any particular reason?"

She shook her head, brushing hair from her face as she sat up. "No. I just wanted to give you as much as I could so you might stitch together what your life was."

His eyes searched hers. "I was a coward then. He hurt you, and I did nothing to stop him."

"What?" The bed creaked below them as she shifted. "You did stop him, Draco. You couldn't have prevented the jinx, but-"

His stare made her fall quiet. "You and I both know I could have done more to protect you. As it was, Theo beat the hell out of him."

"And he served detention for two months! You were a new prefect. If you had hit him, Draco, you would have lost your badge. That's why you didn't resort to violence, and that's okay. Look, my teeth are perfect now after Madam Pomfrey fixed them."

He looked to the quilt bunched around them. His fingers brushed the inside of her wrist. "You are worth far more than a badge, then and now."

Hermione barely found her voice. "You have no idea what you thought of me then, Draco."

"I saw myself in the memories, you know. I know what I thought of you. It was there, as small as it might have been." He missed the way her eyes flew open at the small, but still there, admission. "What was our relationship like with the other? I have no idea how well I know you, but I've known you my entire life."

Hermione tucked hair behind her ear. "I don't know. I always believed you thought of me as a sister."

He choked, levelling a stare at her, slowly reaching up to cup her cheek. His thumb swiped across her bottom lip, causing them to part in surprise. "Oh, Hermione, I definitely don't think of you as a sister. The things I think—they're not acceptable for a sister."

His hands fell away from her. "Draco?"

"I didn't mean to say that." He groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

She thought about kissing him, about cupping his face and leaning up. Hermione swallowed, slowly reaching up. Cradling his face in her hands, she leaned her forehead to his. "Don't take it back."

"I couldn't even if you wanted me to."

"Has it been like this since you found me in the forest?" Hermione asked quietly. He'd seen her books on werewolves, she knew. Even if she hadn't worked up the nerve to ask him outright, he had to have known. "Am I...Are we…?"

He opened his eyes, and for a moment, Hermione thought he would kiss her to chase away all her doubts. "We're whatever you want to be."

She tilted her head, letting her lips skim his. "Am I?"

His hand gripped her hips before she could lean forward again. "Yes," Draco growled. "This isn't how I thought this would go."

"You thought about it?"

"I had to tell you that you were my mate eventually. Not that I've been around other werewolves, but I assume this is a big decision, Hermione. It's not something we need to discuss right now anyway; we've only known each other in this capacity for two weeks. There's a long way to go."

Right, logic. She'd been ready to snog him and see where it went. She supposed it was irresponsible, though. "There's something else bothering you. What is it?"

"When Theo finds out I'm alive, I'm not sure he'll ever forgive me for keeping this from him. The last memory of us, before I leave for France, he joked that he could live without me."

Her eyes watered. "I'm not sure he'll forgive me for this secret, but he'll forgive you. He loves you, and he's always believed you were alive." Hermione laid down, nodding for her to join him. Her back met his chest as he held her close, slinging an arm over her waist. "Goodnight, Draco."

He kissed her shoulder, murmuring his response into the dark.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, but important note so please read: I'm anticipating little to no updates for this in the next 2-3 weeks. I hope that you'll understand I needed a mini break to catch up on what is pre-written and shuffling chapter seventeen around to where it makes sense. In the meantime, there will be a few pieces with rare pairs popping up from me. I can't wait to hear what you thought of this chapter!
> 
> Next chapter snippet: Laying his head against the cushions while his eyes were closed, Draco said, "I can feel you staring."
> 
> Her cheeks heated up. Hermione held the cup higher to hide at least part of her face. "I'm not staring."
> 
> "It's alright." There was a much softer, barely audible, "I like it."


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I am *mostly* back in dramione, I think. I wrote chapter 17 of Kismet today, and am feeling quite a bit better. Thank you for the reviews left for the last chapter, and I hope you'll enjoy this newest one. Alpha love to MykEsprit and beta love to mcal. I would die without these two.

 

* * *

" _Wingardium Leviosa,"_ Draco said carefully.

The vase he was meant to lift slammed into the ceiling, shattering above their heads. A squeak left her before she laughed, but he'd already pulled her into the curve of him, shielding her from falling shards. Hermione stepped out from under his arm with a grin, waving her wand and vanishing the glass.

"Maybe we should work with objects that aren't so breakable," Hermione said.

He scratched the back of his neck. "Sorry."

She shook her head, flipping through the book on the table. "Don't be. You haven't used magic in two years. From what I read, your magical core keeps working, obviously, but when you start using magic again…"

Draco's eyebrows rose. "What? I blow things up?"

"Little bit, yes," Hermione dragged a finger down the page. "What do you want to work on? Anything in particular?"

He was silent, taking a seat on the sofa. "No." His voice was off.

She looked up. "What is it?"

Draco laid his arm across the back of the sofa. "I didn't mean to see it, but you left a letter out last night from Harry. I saw he told to brush up on your self-defence."

Knowing where the conversation was headed, she shut the book. "Harry's an Auror. So is Ron. Both of them have been on back to back missions for the Ministry since I was attacked. He's doing something for Dumbledore as well, but doesn't tell Theo or me what it is."

He nodded. "Why is an Auror telling you this?"

"Harry believes I need to learn to protect myself. He's, Merlin this is hard." Hermione sat beside him, tucking her legs beneath her. She rested her arm on the back of the sofa, resting her cheek against her open palm. "What do you know about You-Know-Who?"

His knee bumped hers. "I know he rose to power in the seventies, and that he was killed. People don't talk of him so often anymore, and I've only heard things in passing. Why?"

"Harry's parents were murdered by You-Know-Who. They went into hiding with Harry and they were betrayed by Sirius Black. You-Know-Who found their safehouse, murdering James, and then Lily in an upstairs bedroom. He tried to use the killing curse on Harry, but it deflected. You-Know-Who vanished; no one's seen him since. Technically, it was Harry."

His eyes widened at the tale. "An infant killed him?"

The reaction used to make her laugh, used to make Harry roll his eyes. Hermione swallowed. "No, we don't think so now." Taking a breath, she tapped her finger against her temple. "During the Death Eater attack at the World Cup, Harry's scar hurt. Afterwards, he told us that Dumbledore believed it meant You-Know-Who is alive, and that he's back."

Draco's anger was instant. "Then you need to leave the country, not stick around to learn how to fight."

She focused on the leather chair across from them rather than his clenched jaw. "I won't leave Harry and Ron. If they stay, I'll stay."

"That's suicide."

She glared at him. "You wanted to know why he told me to learn to duel. This is why. It may save my life very soon. The entire world is on the edge of something, Draco. You wouldn't know, I understand—"

He cut her off, his voice booming in the small room. "Of course I don't bloody know! I'm trapped in this safehouse day after day because if I leave, I may be murdered by my own father."

She flinched, and Hermione didn't miss the way he clenched his jaw. "If I could take you anywhere, I would."

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't care about strolling around the Wizarding World, Hermione. I care about you and the sense of preservation that you seemingly don't have."

Bringing her knees to her chest, Hermione looked away. "You sound just like you used to, just like Theo too."

There was a sharp breath. "At least Theo has some sense then."

"I won't leave," Hermione whispered. "I'm not sorry for it, but you deserve to know that I won't. If you want to leave, I'm sure we could establish a safe house in another country."

"Look at me." He said gruffly. She met his eyes while chewing her lower lip. "I'm not leaving you. So, I guess I'd like to work on duelling."

* * *

Staying with him was an addiction she didn't want to break. Days with Draco blurred together as they reviewed magic, but it was the conversations that made her head spin. He asked about her life more than his, and he wanted to know everything she would tell him.

She had to leave though. If she didn't spend time at home, she was certain Theo would attempt to follow her. While he wouldn't get to the safe house, it would raise too many questions that she wasn't ready to answer. Creeping through the corridors of the castle, she'd already heard a house elf say that the king was gone once again.

Her stomach churned as she questioned everything her father did. Avoiding Theo wasn't easy after their visit to Malfoy Manor. Her brother looked for her. He'd sent messages through the bracelet while she'd laid in bed in the middle of the night. It was a simple,  _Are you safe?_ She replied with short answers, but some messages went ignored. It made her sick to distance herself, to wonder if she could trust him.

The walk to her bedchambers was silent. Each creak of the castle around her made her uneasy, and Hermione kept one hand on her wand. No longer sure who was on what side, or what might be lurking in her home, perhaps it was best to be safe. Slipping into her room, and spelling the heavy oak door shut behind her, Hermione made her way to the wardrobe.

As she spent more time with Draco, not wanting to leave, her cache of clothes was dwindling. She tossed muggle jeans onto the bed, reminded of how much her father loathed her muggle clothes as she did. He blamed Harry for introducing anything muggle to his daughter, but she had always argued they were more comfortable. She froze in front of the wardrobe, her hair slipping from its bun. It was too  _normal_  a memory for who her father truly was, wasn't it?

A Death Eater.

Tearing herself away from the bleak train of thought, she packed pyjamas and all of the plain shirts that she had. As she stood over the bed, cramming everything into it before she shrunk it to fit neatly in her pocket, the door swung open.

"Your locking spells are terrible."

Hermione stared at her brother as she arched a dark brow. "If I didn't want you to get in, you wouldn't have. I just didn't care enough to try." Still packing, she averted her eyes.

"They'll fit better if you fold them."

"Thank you for your input," Hermione zipped the bag, raised her wand, and shrunk it before sliding it smoothly into her pocket.

Theo crossed the room in a few strides. He stood at the foot of her bed, his hands tucked into the pockets of his suit. "Where are you going?"

"Away." Focusing on the sheer curtains on the far side of the room, Hermione left no question as to whether she wanted to talk. "It was nice seeing you. I'll be going."

His hand came down hard on the railing of her bed. "Hermione, wait."

Stopping midstep, she thought it was a mistake to look back at him, but she did anyway. "What do you want?" Hermione watched as he sat on the side of her bed, patting the space beside him. "Theo…"

"You've been avoiding me." A moment passed. "You disappeared from Malfoy Manor, and no one has seen you since."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't exaggerate."

Clenching his jaw, Theo replied, "I'm not. I've asked around, Hermione. Harry and Ron haven't seen you when they have been home. Daphne thought you were ill, and that was why you haven't left your room in a week. But I know that you sneak home in the mornings, and leave again late at night. Before you say it, I know there's someone, but you Apparated out of Malfoy Manor without me. A house elf saw you vomiting in the gardens."

Her hands shook as she stared at him. Overcome with the repeating mantra of  _Death Eater?_ Hermione couldn't bear to look at him. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, and the question was out before she'd even thought of why she shouldn't. "Are you a Death Eater?"

Theo blinked and then shot to his feet. Towering over her, hurt flickered across his face as she stumbled away from him. "What the fuck?"

She gasped, her hand flying to her chest as he reached for her. Hermione shook her head. "Don't touch me right now."

He rolled his sleeves up, baring his forearms to her.

No Dark Mark.

Bile rose in her throat as she looked from his arms to his face. What had she done?

"How could you think that?" He whispered. "You're my sister."

The truth was right there. All she had to do was take the opportunity. "Not really." She choked. "I'm only your half-sister, really, if that counts at all. Father told me. Most Purebloods wouldn't count it at all. In Malfoy Manor, I saw you with Death Eaters. I heard you say Father was ready to fulfil his oath to the Dark Lord."

"Fuck," Theo growled. "You weren't meant to hear that. Hermione, you  _cannot_  tell anyone."

He didn't flinch under her glare. "Obviously!' Hermione shot back. "I wonder why that is, probably because You-Know-Who is coming back, and Father has a role to play in it!"

Theo's eyes widened then as she lifted her wand. "Stop, we need to discuss this before you go off half-brained. Have you told anyone?"

She swallowed, not offering an answer. "I need to go."

"You  _need_ to—"

Before he could grapple her, Hermione Apparated from her bedroom. Landing in the safehouse, she slid to the floor while she knew Draco was in the shower.

Her wrist burned and she raised her arm. Stamped clearly onto her bracelet in black ink was:  _You've always been my sister. You'll always be my sister, no matter what we learn._

While he didn't know who her father was, Hermione had the suspicion that her older brother had learned much, much more about their family than she ever had.

* * *

The next day, Draco sent Hermione flying into the dirt no less than four times. "Sorry," he called sheepishly, the tops of his ears growing red.

Brushing dirt off her arse, Hermione only shook her head. "Don't apologise. I'm not the best at duelling, guess that's why we're here."

Draco crossed the divide between them, slipping his wand into his pocket. "You've been upset since last night."

Her shoulders fell. "Six times out of ten, I'm upset when I get here. What else is new?"

"It didn't wear off this time."

Wiping sweat from her cheek with her sleeve, she glanced up. "Theo and I are fighting if you can call it that. It's really just me avoiding him. He found me before I returned."

He nodded, waiting patiently for her to continue.

Hermione turned, making her way back into the safehouse and into the kitchen. Grabbing a glass, she filled it with water. "I asked him if he was a Death Eater."

Draco's eyes widened. "That was tactless."

"A bit, yes," Hermione readily agreed as she sipped her water. "He's not by the way. I can't believe I ever believed he could be. Still, he knows whatever Father is doing. It doesn't help matters that I admitted I wasn't his sister before I Apparated. I imagine he's a nervous wreck right now."

He leaned over the kitchen island, crossing his arms. "Then why are you here?"

She said nothing.

"Not that I remember much about Theo, but I think you should go find him. Immediately. You should clear this up before it has the chance to get any worse." Draco spoke softly, not once sounding harsh.

He was right. She just hated how rational it sounded.

"He's keeping big secrets."

Draco blinked before walking around the island. He walked her backwards until the bottom of her back met the countertop. His face neared her as he muttered, "So are you, Hermione. I'm quite the secret to keep. Don't you believe he's protecting you?" His hands slid up her forearms. "Hermione?"

She swallowed hard and nodded. "Yes."

"Can you blame him? Whatever this is must be bigger than him, and he just doesn't want it to touch you."

All she could focus on was his hand sliding up her arm, the calloused pads of his fingers brushing over her sensitive skin. Hermione set the glass of water down harshly, the water sloshing over the edge and running down the cupboards. "I suppose not," she breathed. "I'll find him tomorrow when I'm home."

Draco smirked. "Alright. What else is bothering you?"

She thought he was far too observant for his own good, or maybe her own. "Later." Hermione replied. "Ready to practice again?"

* * *

By the time the sun met the horizon, Hermione was nestled in the corner of the sofa with a steaming cup of tea. Draco sat at the other end of the sofa, stretching his legs out, his feet brushing her knee. Still sweaty from an entire afternoon of practice—which consisted of him mostly winning—his hair stuck to his forehead. He peeled off his jacket, and kicked off his boots when they had come inside.

Laying his head against the cushions while his eyes were closed, Draco said, "I can feel you staring."

Her cheeks heated up. Hermione held the cup higher to hide at least part of her face. "I'm not staring."

"It's alright." There was a much softer, barely audible, "I like it."

The corner of her lips lifted. "How do you feel?"

"Sore in places I didn't know would feel sore from waving a wand."

Hermione snorted. "Maybe if you didn't jump around so much."

He cracked one eye open. "I wouldn't have to if you would stay still. You're hopping around like a fool."

She raised her cup, speaking from behind it. " _You're_ the one who tends to blow things up when he hits them."

Draco didn't laugh. "I wouldn't hurt you."

"I didn't mean—nevermind. But obviously I wouldn't stay in one spot if I'm dueling." She sat her tea on the table. "Can we talk about something?"

Replying without opening his eyes, Draco said, "Whatever you want." He nudged her foot with his own, smiling sleepily. "Is this about what's been bothering you?"

"Yes."

Peeking at her from his side of the sofa, Draco nodded to the spot beside him. "Want to come over here?"

It was one of the collective moments that Hermione was reminded that this wasn't the Draco she'd grown up alongside. He'd never been quick to show warmth. Not to say that he was cold, but he and Theo had gone to Hogwarts, they'd grown apart. She was moving before she thought about it, laying beside him while he tossed the cushions into the floor so they wouldn't be squished together.

He propped his head up in his hand, leaning against the back of the sofa. "There's a leaf in your hair. From one of your tumbles onto the ground no doubt."

She laughed, reaching up, but she didn't find it immediately. "Where is it?"

Draco stretched his hand out, brushing her earlobe as he pulled a small leaf from the bottom layer of her hair. It fell from his grasp, floating to the floor where it would be crushed below their feet later.

She ran a hand down her face. "During the Death Eater attack at the World Cup, I was cornered by two of them, but you already know that. We've talked about it. They were the two in Malfoy Manor as well."  _You're rambling._ "They called my parents blood traitors. After my father arrived home, I learned that he's not my father at all."

Draco's eyes widened, only a fraction, and he said nothing in response to the revelation. Even though he'd surely been putting together his own theories after she'd said she wasn't Theo's sister.

"My mother had an affair during the war and my real—he was on the other side." She looked down at her hands as she fidgeted. "He's dead now."

"What happened?" The sofa dipped below them, and a light in the corner of the room flickered. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

She nodded. "I know that. He was  _Imperiused_  to kill my mother, unable to fight the compulsion. He went after a cell of Death Eaters with fiendfyre. Killed the whole lot of him, and himself. I hate it."

"That your father isn't your father?"

"Oh, he's my bloody father, alright. He adopted me through magic after I was born. Still, I wasn't a Nott at a time." Hermione let out a heavy sigh. "I hate knowing that the man who was my father, my birth father, was fighting Death Eaters and the man I always idolised is a Death Eater."

Draco's hand rested at her hip, a respectable spot, not sliding too low. "Perhaps he has a reason?"

Her eyes narrowed as her head snapped up. "What reason could there be?"

He didn't have an answer. She didn't expect one.

"I know you're trying to help me." Hermione swallowed. "I just don't know how you could. I've been a terrible sister to Theo."

Draco shook his head. "You need to protect yourself, even from family. I don't think Theo will ever hurt you, however." He was right.

Still, guilt twisted in her stomach. Hermione rolled onto her back, crossing her ankles and raised her arm. The bracelet glinted in the low, flickering light. Holding her wand to it, it heated against her skin.

_I'm sorry. Meet tomorrow if you'll see me?_

A response came within seconds. Hermione knew without a doubt that Theo was awake in his own chambers, hoping to hear from her.  _Of course. Home?_

_Yes._

She let her arm fall to her side. "I don't feel much better." Hermione murmured. She reached for his hand, lacing her fingers through his and laying it on top of her stomach. "Are you tired?"

He shook his head. "Get up." Draco climbed over the edge of the couch, leaving her in the room as he disappeared into the bedroom. He emerged not even a minute later, carrying a radio. "I found this in the back of the wardrobe. It works."

Draco sat it on the countertop, crooking his finger and beckoning her toward him.

"You want to dance?" Hermione grinned ear to ear. Music filled the room, and he took both of her hands, settling them on his shoulders.

"Do you have any better ideas?"

Shaking her head, she allowed herself to lean into him. Resting her head on his chest, they swayed slowly. She could hear the steady beat of his heart just below her ear, could feel the way he took a breath.

His fingers rested lightly against her hips. "Can I tell you something as well?"

She pulled away from him to get a look at him. "Of course."

He looked right over her head, his fingers tightening on her hips as he seemed to second guess what he wanted to say. "I haven't been entirely truthful with you." Draco held her in place when she tried to rip away, panic settling in. "You asked me what I remembered, and I told you that I remembered the first change, and you. Both of those are true, but it's not all. I remember Lucius leaving me. I remember the attack, and I remember begging him to help me. He didn't."

Hermione gripped his shoulders. "Fuck, I'm so sorry." It was a whisper, barely audible. "Draco, I'm so sorry. You deserved better. Theo looked for you in France immediately after."

"I know." His chin rested on top of her head. "You told me. I don't know what happened with the Obliviate. With everything I've read now, I understand I shouldn't remember the spell being performed, but I do."

Nodding along, Hermione asked, "Is that why you came back? Or did you just find yourself here?"

He gulped. And then he stepped away from her, disentangling himself from her. "No, Hermione. I came back to kill him. Not that it was easy since I have no idea who I was, but he's not conspicuous in England. I wanted—I  _want_  to kill him."

Her hands fell to her sides as she took in the words. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was certain you would leave once you learned, and I'm selfish." His hands curled into tight fists. "I wanted you with me," Draco said slowly, "but I won't be angry if you leave."

Her heartbeat slowed as she looked to him. "Leave?" Hermione echoed. "Why would I leave? Because you want to murder Lucius? I have to admit that I don't particularly like the idea, and I'll probably do my best to prevent it, but I wouldn't leave because of it. Do you think I'm afraid of you?"

His hands curled into fists. "I assumed you would be. Should be."

Hermione stormed toward him, lightly pushing him backward until his back met the wall. "Then you're a fool. I've never been afraid of you, not since the night I met you, and you saved my life."

He opened his mouth to reply, probably something deprecating toward himself, and she couldn't stand the thought of that.

She fisted her hands into his shirt, pulling him down and pressed her lips to his.

Hermione expected for him to pull away, but instead, he turned her, pressing her against the wall before sliding his fingers into her curls. "Wanted to do this all day," Draco's voice was muffled.

"I wouldn't leave." She repeated, sliding her hands up his chest. "As it is, I hardly want to leave when I have to."

His lips slanted against hers. "Werewolves are dangerous, you realise that,"

"I'd no sooner leave you than I would leave Harry, or Ron." She shot back.

He broke the kiss fully to look at her. "I should take that to be significant, right?"

She shook her head, pulling him down to her again, smiling against his lips. "Sure, but the point is I meant it. I couldn't leave you."

With a low growl, she was pinned to the wall while he kissed her like she was air and he was starving for it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, I feel like I've been waiting for that forever. As always, I would love to hear what you think. Sorry, the snippet is a bit of a long one.
> 
> Next Chapter Snippet: Remus rested his hand on her shoulder. "I want you to take this." He pressed something into her hand, a piece of parchment with scribbled writing across it. "Harry and Ron already know it. Memorise it, then burn it. Do you understand?"
> 
> Not at first.
> 
> 12 Grimmauld Place
> 
> London, England
> 
> Order of the Phoenix
> 
> Hermione stared at him as her heart thudded heavily in her chest. "Is this an invitation?" She croaked. "My brother—"


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alpha love to MykEsprit. Beta love to mcal. All of my love to those of you that read this as I slowly make my way through it.

 

* * *

The following day, knowing how likely she was to push it off, Draco cradled her face and kissed her before sending her through the floo. She wasn't given the chance to object. Hermione landed in the castle's fireplace, her lips still tingling from the way Draco's slanted against hers. Harsh, unforgiving.

Altogether different from how he usually acted.

She gathered her thoughts, forcing herself to stop touching her lips like a lovesick fool before stepping out from the fireplace. Green soot was scattered through the dark strands of her hair. Running her fingers through her thick, wild curls, Hermione shook out what she could.

"Princess is home," Winky's voice came from directly behind her, and Hermione turned on her heel to find her house elf standing with her arms crossed. "Princess needs to bring her clothes back from wherever she's staying so Winky can wash."

A grimace twisted her lips. Of course it wasn't only Theo who had noticed her vanishing acts. Surely her father had noticed by now, and that meant it would be hardly any time at all before he cornered her for answers. "I'll do that tomorrow," Hermione promised.

Winky bounced on the backs of her heels, raising a familiar potion for Hermione to grab. "Winky hopes Princess doesn't mind, but Winky gathered a potion for Princess from the potions lab."

Hermione took the vial, her cheeks heating as she stared at the purple liquid as it rolled from one end of the vial to the other. "Winky," she gasped. "I'm not-I don't-"

Winky Disapparated on the spot, a wry smile on her face as she went.

Footsteps echoed in the corridor behind her. Hermione's throat threatened to close as they came to a stop no less than a meter behind her. "Did Winky give you the contraceptive potion?" Theo's voice was a low rumble.

She pivoted, coming to face him, and her stomach dropped as she took in the sight of him. There were dark circles under his eyes, evidence that he likely hadn't slept at all the night before. Theo hadn't changed out of his own pajamas, so she assumed he'd been lying in bed all morning. "Did you tell her to give me one?"

He shrugged, lazily tucking his hands into his pockets. "I might have. It would have been even more awkward if I had given it to you."

"It's still awkward since you're telling me you're the reason she did it." Hermione countered. She slid the potion into the inner pocket of her cloak. "I'm already taking a contraceptive potion."

"I worried you weren't."

She wanted to laugh that Theo thought she was spending her nights away having rampant sex, but what else had she expected him to think? "Let's not talk about this." Hermione cleared her throat. "You're right, it's awkward, but I'm not...doing whatever it is that you think I'm doing."

He muttered, "I wouldn't know." Theo led her down the corridor and up the stairs.

The familiar stone was mostly smooth against her fingertips as they climbed the stairs to their side of the castle. Letting his door swing open, Theo motioned her inside. As the door shut behind them, she didn't know what to say. Where did she start?

As he took a seat at the foot of his bed, Hermione lingered toward the door. "I never thought you were a Death Eater." She voiced softly, her voice somber. "I didn't think it was possible because you've always been different from other Purebloods, but I let my mind wander after Malfoy Manor. I know it's no excuse."

He nodded. "I've always been honest with you up until the attack at the World Cup. I don't think either of us is going to leave the room knowing much more than when we came in."

Hermione had to accept that, given that she wouldn't tell him the entire truth either. "I know."

Theo clasped his hands in his lap and let out a sharp breath. "So, let's start with what we can tell each other."

"Gideon Prewett is my father." Hermione blurted. Her hands shook as she put them flat at her sides. "I wasn't born a Nott at all. Father adopted me through blood magic after my-after Gideon was killed in the war. If he hadn't, I probably would have figured it out a long time ago."

His eyes widened. "How long have you known?"

"Since the World Cup. Bellatrix and her husband cornered me when I ran back toward the fight. She called me a bastard." The wooden door was cool against her back, even through her shirt, and she collapsed against it. "He told me when he arrived home."

The worst part of it all was how Theo wouldn't look at her. He let his head fall into his hands, and he didn't even spare a glance toward her as the seconds passed. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Her eyes watered at the inexplicable rawness in his voice. "I was afraid I wouldn't be your sister anymore. I know it's ridiculous, but-"

Theo immediately stood from the bed, crossing the gap between them in three long strides. His arms came around her, and he tugged her into his chest. "You're so fucking stupid, it's baffling. You're always my sister, regardless of what happens. I don't care that we technically don't have the same father, Hermione."

Burying her face in his chest, she slid her arms around his waist. "You'll never hate me, will you?"

Her brother gave pause at that, before tightening his arms around her. "I could never hate you, but I know there's a reason you're asking me."

Hermione nodded. "I made a promise not to tell you." She whispered. "I've not been pressured, but I constantly want to tell you and it's breaking my heart."

His chin rested on top of her head. "Promises are meant to be kept." Theo left it at that. "Telling you everything I know would be a risk, but I'll tell you what I can." He released her, moving to sit on his bed again.

This time she followed. "Is this about Father?"

He swallowed. "He's not going on diplomatic trips, Hermione."

Panic clawed its way up her rib cage as she stared at him. "Is You-Know-Who alive like Harry said?"

His reaction was hesitant. Theo gripped her hand in his own before nodding. "You can't tell anyone. Do you understand? It's not by Father's choice."

Her eyebrows lifted. "We should tell the Ministry, or Harry. Harry could-"

Theo shook his head swiftly. "I think the Ministry knows already. There are signs it's being swept under the rug. Even if we did report it, it wouldn't do us any good."

Her stomach rolled over on itself. It was all so much worse than she'd expected. She glanced around the room, looking anywhere but her brother. From the wardrobe, to the chest of drawers, to the lit candle at his bedside, the realisation was crushing. "Where does that leave us?"

His thumb swept across her knuckles. "I think it leaves us in the precarious position of selecting a side unless we run."

Running wasn't even an option. "No." Hermione said. "I'm not leaving Harry."

"Neither am I," Theo admitted, his voice thick. "But I need you to. He'll attract danger until this is over."

She nodded. "I know. He told me to practice self defence. I assume this is why. Harry probably knows more than either of us."

"You're practicing?" Theo asked. "Are you any good?"

"My partner sends me flat on my arse more often than not, but I think I'm improving."

Theo's fingers slid through his hair. "This partner is the one you can't tell me about?"

Hermione nodded. "I think I'll be able to tell you soon." She hoped. "Soon," she added, telling herself that it couldn't be put off for much longer.

* * *

The Daily Prophet scarcely included anything worth reading anymore. Hermione sat in the middle of their bed, flicking through the pages, willing anything about an auror mission to jump out at her. Only there was nothing. Sighing to herself, she rested her cheek in her hand. Why would the Daily Prophet have anything to report about auror missions?

Even if they did, she was certain that Harry was going on unsanctioned missions for Dumbledore. Or maybe they'd been cleared through Mad-Eye Moody, but she doubted it. It all came back to You-Know-Who.

She was tired of calling him that, even in her head. Fear of a name only made her fear the monster even more.

The door creaked open, revealing Draco holding two cups of tea. "You're awake early."

Hermione didn't look up. "It's hard to sleep." She traced the headlines of the front page, and found only the most recent scores of the Chudley Cannons. "Harry's been gone longer than he has before this time."

The mattress dipped below him as Draco crawled onto the bed. He left the two cups on the bedside table, choosing to lay on his stomach beside her. "He's a capable auror. I'm sure he's staying safe."

"They're not even reporting on any of the Azkaban escapees anymore. They haven't mentioned Sirius Black since he cornered me in Diagon Alley."

He stirred at her side, glancing up at her. "You never told me that happened."

She shrugged. "He didn't attack me. All he did was ask me about Harry." Hermione replied.

The possessive glint in his eyes sent a shiver down her spine. "They never caught him?"

Hermione shook her head. "Everyone knows something is about to happen, and they're focusing on bloody quidditch scores!" Loose strands from her ponytail slipped, falling into her face as she shook her head in frustration. "I don't understand how all of this is happening, and there's nothing I can do."

Draco's hand slid across the blanket, pushing the newspaper into the floor before taking her hand. "Come here," he murmured. He tugged her down, his body parallel to hers. "You're running yourself ragged."

Dragging a hand tiredly down her face, she could hardly disagree.

"You should take a break from duelling today."

Her knee knocked against his. "What would you suggest I do instead?" She shivered as his fingers lazily ran up and down her forearm. "Draco?"

His eyes had dropped to her lips. Draco scooter closer to her, his chest nearly pressed flush against hers, and cupped the back of her neck. "What do you want to do?"

Her lunge forward wasn't particularly practiced, and she almost knocked her forehead against his, but he caught her with his arms wrapped tightly around her back. Slanting her lips against his, her fingers slid into his hair.

Her nails scraped his scalp, and a low growl vibrated against her lips.

She did it again.

His hands slid down her arms, gripping them as he rolled onto his back. Moving her with him, and draping her across his chest, she bit his lip in the midst of the awkward maneuvering.

Her breaths came in short pants. Hermione took the time as it crept by to remember what he liked. His grip tightened on her hips when she tugged his hair, or when she tried to press herself tighter against him.

Her lips were pliant against his. She bit his lower lip as she moved to straddle his waist. "Draco," she whispered.

They spent the rest of the afternoon caught in one another. His hands traced every inch of her, his touch burning through the thin layer between them.

It was nearly impossible to stop.

* * *

Toward the end of July, two days before Harry's birthday to be exact, Hermione sat in the floor of the safehouse. She painstakingly wrapped his gift while Draco watched on with an amused twist of his lips. He sat on the sofa, his legs crossed, and his feet resting on the coffee table.

"Did they refuse to wrap it for you at the shop?"

Hermione shot him an obscene gesture. She balanced the broom precariously over her knee, attempting to wrap in without magic. It sounded like a good idea at the start, wrapping it herself even though Harry would tease her for making the extra effort for the thought of it. Except now, she wished she'd let the wide eyed boy in Diagon Alley.

"No, I just like to wrap presents myself. I think the extra effort means something." She spoke dramatically through gritted teeth as she  _finally_  got the foil paper into place. Only for it to rip on the other side of the broom. Hanging her head, she sighed. "This is terrible."

Draco didn't disagree. "On the bright side, by the time you finish wrapping that, no one will be able to tell it's a broom. He'll be completely surprised."

Her hands tightened on the broom, the wrapping paper crinkling in her grip. "I'm not sure if you were trying to make me feel better, or insult me."

He folded his arms across his chest. "Bit of both."

A short laugh dislodged from her throat. "You're a menace."

He shrugged. "I think you like it."

* * *

That was how their days passed. She hardly had a complaint. Throughout the day, her wrist would burn on occasion. She and Theo had done better to remain in constant contact from daily check ins to messages telling her that their father was due home any minute. The latter always led to her hastily rushing to the floo, telling Draco goodbye, and landing at home before her father saw that she was gone with his own two eyes.

It had happened the morning of Harry's birthday just after sunrise.

Still feeling where Draco's palm had been resting on her hip while they slept, she crashed into the castle's fireplace. Stumbling out, she quickly combed her fingers through her messied hair. Looking both ways so she could make a clean escape, she turned into Daphne. Their foreheads nearly knocked together.

Daphne arched an eyebrow as she looked Hermione up and down, and then once again. "Your father will have kittens if he sees you." Daphne slid an arm around Hermione's shoulders. "Come on, he's still in the west wing for now. We should have time to get you into a decent set of robes before he finds you looking like you've been thoroughly shagged."

Hermione broke away from Daphne, spluttering, "I'm not-it's not-"

Grinning wickedly, her blonde counterpart replied, "Don't tell me you believe the Pureblood traditions, Hermione. If you're shagging someone, my congratulations."

She knew that Daphne was taking the mickey, at least partly, but that did nothing to calm the heat rising in her cheeks. "We aren't shagging." Hermione realised her mistake in an instant. While she'd been so eager to set the facts straight, she'd also admitted there was someone.

And Daphne was bright enough to put the pieces together.

"Pity," Daphne laughed. They turned down the corridor just in time to see Theo coming their way. "Morning, Theo. Look who just crashed through the fireplace."

"Imagine that. Brush your hair,``he teased before passing them.

Both women rushed into the room, Daphne closing the door behind them. "If you're not shagging, what are you doing?"

The same guilt Hermione felt around Theo threatened to suffocate her once more as she stopped in place. "Have you told Theo about the werewolf?"

Daphne scoffed. "If I had, do you think he'd be so content letting you frolic around as you please? I'm not going to tell him, you're my friend as well. If you were in danger, I would tell him in an instant."

"I'm not in danger."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't you think I already know that? I just want to hear about him. Who is he?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Theo said you probably wouldn't tell me who he is. That's okay. Are you happy?" Daphne smoothed her skirt as she sat on the sofa against the bay window.

It was such an easy question that caught Hermione off guard. "Yes, he makes me happy." She pulled her shirt over her head as she made her way to the wardrobe, pulling out a respectable dress. "If I tell you certain things, not who he is, would you tell Theo?"

Daphne tilted her head to the side as sunlight streamed through the window behind her. "Why would I tell Theo about your boyfriend?"

She didn't have an answer.

Daphne sighed. "No, I won't tell him. Not even if I put the pieces together and learn who he is. You can trust me."

"I'm staying in a safehouse every night because that's where he is. You know how cruel society has been to werewolves since I was attacked." Hermione slid her pajamas down her legs, holding her own dress as she stepped into it. "I asked Professor Dumbledore for help."

Daphne crossed the room, lacing the dress. "Why does he have to stay in a safehouse? I understand how cruel the world is, but isn't this special treatment due to who you are?"

"No, someone tried to murder him. I wish he didn't have to stay hidden away. He's never told me that he hates it, but I know that I would." Now that she was appropriately dressed, Hermione began brushing her hair.

"Just what do you do while you're in the safehouse?"

Hermione glared. "Certainly not whatever you're thinking."

The awkwardness fell away when Daphne leered at her. "Is he good at snogging?"

"He is." Flashes of the day before went through her mind. The two of them duelling, her finally knocking him to the ground which hadn't led to anything productive. Or the way his chest felt against hers when he pressed her into the mattress the night before as he lowered his lips to hers. Hermione cleared her throat. "Yes, he is."

"Must be if that's how you look when you think about it."

Hermione grinned. "I've missed you."

Daphne came to her side, looping her arm through Hermione's. "I've missed you as well. They're waiting on us."

They walked all the way down with their arms interlocked.

* * *

As they entered the main hall, Hermione's eyes widened as her gaze fell on a familiar figure. His dark hair was messy, and disheveled. Harry's eyes were bright as he opened his arms just before she crashed into him.

"You're back!" Hermione shrieked, looping her arms tightly around his neck. "And in one piece!"

Harry squeezed her once before setting her down. "Of course we're in one piece."

She swatted his arm before rushing past him to wrap her arms around Ron's waist. "I'm so relieved to see you both."

Ron chuckled, patting her back. "Glad to see you, 'Mione."

Her father stood at the side, silent and unmoving throughout their reunion. Until the second she stepped away. "Auror Potter, may I have a word before you leave?"

Harry nodded, and she saw how his fingers brushed Theo's before disappearing through an entryway with her father.

She looked to her brother. "What is Harry leaving for now?"

"All of us are going to the Burrow for a birthday party tonight." Theo stepped closer to her, leaning down to whisper in her ear. "Don't worry about what they're discussing."

If only it was that easy.

* * *

The Burrow was warm. It was the first thing Hermione thought as they came through the floo. There was the smell of homemade cooking that wafted from room to room. The shutters were flung open, hanging still haphazardly from the hinges.

Molly's shout of excitement was unmistakable as she rushed toward the group of them. "Harry!" She wrapped the man into a tight hug, still holding on as he patted her shoulder awkwardly. "It's so refreshing to see you boys."

She grabbed Ron next, who thought he'd dodged his mother's bone crushing hug since it was Harry's birthday. "It's only been a few weeks, Mum." Ron muttered.

"A few weeks?" Molly screeched. The ladle gripped in her hand looked especially dangerous, and Ron ducked out of her extended reach. "I don't know what it is the DMLE has the pair of you doing, but let's not pretend this mission was of the normal sort."

Hermione's gaze burned a hole in Harry's back. Answers. She wanted answers, and one way or another, she wouldn't wait for three more weeks to pass before she got them.

Harry changed the subject at the first chance he got, shaking his head when Hermione caught his eye. "Not right now. Molly doesn't know anything that you don't. She just means it was longer."

She swallowed. "Happy Birthday, Harry. I'm glad you're able to be home for it."

He ruffled her hair, throwing his arms around her shoulders and Ron's. From the corner of the room, Hermione spotted Remus. He was leaned against a far wall, just beside an overused coat rack that was beginning to bend.

Remus joined them as they lingered in the sitting room. "Happy Birthday." Pulling Harry into a tight hug, he clapped him on the back. "Nice to see you in one piece this time."

"Where have you been?" Harry's lips were twisted into a grimace. "You haven't returned any of my letters."

The older man arched an eyebrow. "You've been gone for weeks. Surely a missing letter here and there hasn't caused a fuss."

She pretended to be interested in the conversation between Fred and George so her eavesdropping would go unnoticed. Hermione stirred the drink in her hand, the liquid sloshing from side to side. Theo's elbow bumped hers, making her drop the glass.

In the chaos of Molly hearing one of her good glasses break, Hermione barely heard Harry hiss, "You blocked me from your floo."

As she cleaned up the mess with her own wand, vanishing the broken glass, Hermione realised she hadn't visited Remus herself in weeks. If Harry was blocking from his floo, she must be as well.

Molly disappeared back into the kitchen, and Remus said nothing. It was as if someone had snapped their fingers as the party moved back into full swing. Ginny pulled Harry away to discuss quidditch, and possible tactics for the Holyhead Harpies. Theo could be found sitting on the sofa discussing Romania with Charlie, who had seemingly made it back for a birthday party.

And Hermione was left in the middle of it all to gather her thoughts.

Someone cleared their throat just behind her, and tapped her shoulder. "Hermione?" Remus asked. "May I have a word outside?"

She looked to Harry, but he was nodding along to whatever Ginny was chattering about. "Of course. Lead the way."

Remus' hand curled into a tight fist as he led her into the garden, the very same one she had helped de-gnome several times over her summers. If there was work to be done at the Burrow, everyone helped. Guest or not.

As they faced each other with the party far away from them, she asked, "What is this about?"

"Didn't I tell you to stay away from him?" Remus glared at her, his jaw tight. "Don't try to lie to me, Hermione. I can smell him on you."

Her stomach flipped. She looked around them to be sure that no one had followed them in mild curiosity. "You don't understand. I know him, so does Harry."

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, accidentally tearing it and pushing his hand through it. "Does Harry actually know who it is?"

"I didn't tell him, and he didn't ask. I think it's fair considering he doesn't need to know." Hermione shot back. "I haven't placed myself in danger. I haven't sealed a-"

He let out a breath that resembled a growl. "I know you haven't sealed the mating bond. Believe me, I would know. Not that I have any desire to know. It doesn't matter. Werewolves are territorial, and-"

"Would you think of a mate as property?"

Remus fell silent, his shoulders slipping. " _No_. But if you decided to leave him, he could decide that he'd rather force you to stay."

She drew a deep breath. "And I think he'd rather eat his own hand than ever hurt me. I'm safe, I promise."

"Who is it?"

"You know everybody who knows asks that bloody question?" Hermione laughed. "You know what I'm going to say, don't you?"

He ran a hand down his face, sighing. "I wish I were wrong. It's hard not to think of you in the same way as Harry. You and Ron both. All of you-it's-"

She smiled wearily. "I know what it is."

Remus shook his head. "Let us pray to whatever God will hear us that you never know war."

It was the first time it had been brought into focus, despite everything else. It hit her like a load of stones. It wasn't coming anymore.

It was already here, and she'd been the last to fully realise what everything meant. Hermione lifted her chin, eyes sharpening. "It is what it is."

Remus rested his hand on her shoulder. "I want you to take this." He pressed something into her hand, a piece of parchment with scribbled writing across it. "Harry and Ron already know it. Memorise it, then burn it. Do you understand?"

Not at first.

_12 Grimmauld Place_

_London, England_

_Order of the Phoenix_

Hermione stared at him as her heart thudded heavily in her chest. "Is this an invitation?" She croaked. "My brother-"

"Charlie has your brother." Remus murmured. "This is Sirius Black's old home. It was used in the first war. Dumbledore decided it will suit our needs for the second time."

"How do we know that Black won't break in? If Harry is there, surely he would try." Her voice wavered the smallest bit.

"It's warded. It's safe. If you ever need to hide, come here. If you trust  _him_ , then," he swallowed, "he's safe there."

She committed the address to memory before incinerating it. "Why did you cut Harry off from your floo?"

Remus shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he looked down at her. "I've had company, the sort that might leave a bad taste in your mouth."

She left it at that as her name was called from inside the house.

* * *

Sitting cross legged on the floor, she watched Ginny spin Harry six times before letting loose to pin the tail on the hippogryph. She leaned into Theo's side, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Harry,  _no,_ " Hermione sniggered as he made his way in the opposite direction. "To your right."

"Your other right, Potter." Theo smirked, watching Harry fumble through the living room.

Charlie leaned back on the sofa, resting his arm over the back of it. He took a long drink of his firewhisky before snorting himself. "He's like a Hungarian Horntail in a china shop. Watch that cupboard, or Mum will make sure you miss your next birthday."

Harry ripped the blindfold from his eyes. "I'm trying!"

As everyone laughed, Ron rushed down the stairs, heavily panting as he skidded to a stop. "Scabbers is gone."

Hermione straightened. "Your rat?"

"Who else do you know with the name Scabbers?" Ron snarked.

She bit the inside of her cheek. "We'll help you find him then." Hermione rose from her seat. She searched the top floor of the Burrow, and she could hear from the very bottom of the home that Bill was going to kill Ron if his daughter didn't get Scabbers.

Hermione couldn't imagine the little girl taking a liking to the rat.

For all they tried, they never did find Scabbers.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm quickly reaching the end of what I have pre-written, so I probably won't update until next week so I can write chapter eighteen. Also, I've always worried that maybe the pacing of this was moving too slow, but I can confidently tell you that's going to change dramatically soon if you feel the same way.
> 
> Thank you for reading, I'd love to hear what you think!
> 
> Next Chapter Snippet: Downstairs, there was a full table waiting for her arrival.
> 
> Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy. Both of the Lestrange brothers, and Bellatrix Lestrange. Fenrir Greyback.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One week and one total breakdown later regarding this story, here is a new chapter. Happy to say I wrote another chapter of Kismet this week! Alpha love to MykEsprit, and beta love to mcal. All remaining mistakes are my own. I hope you enjoy!

 

* * *

"Watch out!" Harry's shout prevented nothing as she stumbled backward.

Hermione tripped over her own two feet in a large display of what she thought was her own incompetence, and she broke the coffee table in the living room. "I'm fine. I'm fine." She muttered, crawling out from the broken table. Glass was stuck in her palms from the attempt to catch herself, and she was certain that there were a few shards that had been embedded in her neck. "Just a bit of glass is all."

Ron whistled from where he stood. "That was a nasty fall."

So it was. She painstakingly picked glass from her hands, eventually running her fingers across the back of her neck. "It's alright."

Harry wore a guilty look, holstering his wand. "Maybe we shouldn't,"

She climbed to her feet before he could finish the sentence. "Don't back out now, Harry. We're doing this for a reason, aren't we?"

He took a long look at her before running his fingers through his hair. "Theo is going to have my head when he learns we're duelling."

She shrugged, gripping her wand tightly. "He already knows you told me to practice. Theo can't be much angrier."

Harry snorted. "Have you ever met your brother?"

* * *

Harry and Ron were home for two weeks. In those two weeks, she pushed herself harder than she had been before with Draco. The address leading to the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix echoed in her mind most days, reminding her that practice wasn't only practice anymore. She needed to learn, needed to be able to hold her own in a fight.

Her best friends wanted to go easy on her when she fumbled. The coffee table incident was only one out of a handful that should have sent her to St Mungo's. Through her insistence that Death Eaters wouldn't be so forgiving, and promising that she wasn't going to leave, Harry stopped using basic offence spells.

Seeing Draco was still a priority, even if the man told her she didn't owe him any company. She duelled in the mornings in the middle of Harry and Ron's flat-the furniture all moved out of the way. In the afternoons, she landed in the safehouse where sometimes they ate lunch. Sometimes Draco kissed her before she could even step out of the fireplace, his arms winding tightly around her middle as he lifted her to wrap her legs around him.

Mostly though, they fought. Out of the three duelling partners she had, Draco refused to pull his spells. In Hogwarts, he'd been quite the duelist himself, and it wasn't that Hermione was  _worse_ than him, but he goaded her into fighting dirty, yelling that it might save her life, so he'd found himself strung up by his ankle more than once.

He used the fact that she tended to let her temper blow up in order to make her increasingly volatile.

However, Draco was coming back into his own at a quicker rate than she expected. While he hadn't been able to cast levitation charms before, there was a wide margin of improvement, and she wondered just what he was doing when she was gone. Clearly, whatever it was seemed to be working well.

She learned jinxes that she never wanted to use, all sorts of things that her father must have known if he was a Death Eater. It made her stomach roll over on itself as Draco told her things that had been in his father's memories.

There was a spell for everything, she already knew. Yet knowing the incantation to pull someone's organs from them was entirely different than reading about theory.

Hermione wondered if he ever thought he'd use them himself, or if it was a barely disguised warning.  _This is what my father is capable of. Avoid him if you can, but if you can't…_

Ignoring it was naivety at best.

At the other side of it all since she was in a constant state of juggling her life, Harry still kicked her arse from one end of his flat to the other. So did Ron, but by the time orders were handed down to them by Moody, she could knock both of them down. Just not at the same time.

The morning they left, she was in the safehouse while tangled in a mess of limbs that was her and Draco. "What are you thinking?" She whispered.

The sun hadn't broken on the horizon yet as she buried her face into his chest.

There was a low rumble in his chest as he spoke. "I'm thinking about the full moon." He tried running his fingers through her hair, but they were caught on a knot. "It's only seven days away."

Her hand, much smaller than his, found his and she threaded their fingers together. "Are you worried?"

"The only thing I'm worried about is that I won't be able to convince you to leave." Draco said honestly, and she found his eyes boring into hers when she looked up. "I know you're going to say that I shouldn't keep worrying."

Hermione shook her head, her dark messy curls spilling across his bare chest. "There's no reason to worry. We've met during a full moon before, Draco. Twice. What's going to be different now?"

"I'm more worried about my own self control." He muttered. "He- _I_  want to mark you."

Heat pooled in her belly. "I assumed that."

Draco threw his spare arm across his face, covering his eyes with his bicep. "Oh, yes, you assumed it. Of course you did. Can we not act so nonchalant about this, Hermione?"

She straddled his waist, lifting his arm and pushing it out of the way. "I don't mean to make light of it."

He still didn't open his eyes. "I realise that."

"Open your eyes please." Hermione coaxed. Her fingers skimmed his sides, lightly tickling him. "Why won't you open your eyes?"

"Because I'll look at you and snog you." Draco growled. "And that's not productive at all."

She laughed, crossing her arms and resting her chin on her hands. "There are worse ways to spend the morning."

Fingers slid into her hair, his nails scratching her scalp. "There are." He agreed. "I don't want you here on the full moon."

Her stomach sank. She wanted to force herself into the situation, but couldn't justify it either. "I don't want you to be alone." She whispered. "Draco, please."

"What does-I forgot his name. The other werewolf you know, what does he do on the full moon?"

Nothing that she wanted Draco to do. He didn't deserve to be caged while he was on Wolfsbane. "Remus locks himself inside of a cage." Hermione looked away from him as her stomach twisted and the beginning of hot tears stung her eyes.

"Get a cage, and you can stay." Draco's chest rumbled. "Keep your wand on me just in case."

It wasn't truly a win, but it was as close as she would get. "You're not going to hurt me."

He closed his eyes, exhaling. "I'm not worried about hurting you."

She couldn't bring herself to ask anything more when he wanted to drop the conversation.

* * *

_Dear Remus,_

_This is an odd request, but do you still use the cage on full moons?_

_Hermione._

She sent the missive attached to her personal owl, watching from the window sill as it vanished from sight.

His response didn't take long. Trixie swept into her bedroom from the open window, holding her leg out with the small piece of parchment attached.

_Dear Hermione,_

_This conversation is best to be had in person. My Floo is open until two o'clock. Please drop in when it's convenient for you._

_Remus._

Hermione burned the letter, letting the ashes fall from her window to the ground below. She dressed quickly, pulling a Gryffindor jumper from the wardrobe before making her way through the castle. She had arrived home only a half hour earlier, leaving the safehouse while Draco was still sleeping.

Already, she wanted to return. To crawl back into bed and wake up with him since she so rarely woke up at his side.

"Morning," she called out when she passed Theo.

He held up a cup of tea in hand, and the Daily Prophet in the other. "Leaving already?"

She nodded. "Just a quick errand is all."

Theo sipped his tea. "All right then. Be home for dinner tonight. Father will be home." He reached out, the paper crinkling as he stepped closer. Theo whispered in her ear, "There may be  _guests_  he's entertaining."

There was little room to mistake what he meant. Her lips parted in horror. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." He spoke from behind his cup. "Don't think of skipping out, Hermione. I'm fairly certain he'll send a tracker to find you if you do."

She swallowed hard. "Do you know who it will be?"

Theo looked down both ways of the corridor. "Not completely, but I believe Greyback will be here." His jaw was tight. "Don't."

"He-Draco…" She knew beyond a shred of doubt that it was Greyback who'd turned Draco, who'd attacked Remus as a child. "He attacked Remus, too."

"Just keep your mouth shut and your head down." Theo said harshly. "If you have an outburst, we're fucked." There was something about the way he was glaring at her.

"I can control myself."

"Can you?"

Hermione turned on her heel. "Shut it," she hissed. "I know you're angry that you have to sit across from him, but you don't have to take it out on me." She walked away, slow enough that maybe he would stop her.

Theo didn't say anything, and when she looked back, he was walking in the opposite direction.

* * *

She returned to the safehouse with the shrunken cage in her pocket, but she didn't tell Draco about the likelihood that she would return that night smelling of Fenrir Greyback just by being near him.

Hermione prepared the room where the cage sat, clearing it of furniture. Ideally, she knew that Draco would have preferred her to not be there at all.

If he noticed that something was wrong, he didn't say anything. Shortly before five, she brushed off her jeans as she stood. "I have to go." She said quietly, grabbing her wand and bag from the table. "Family dinner," Hermione explained in a low mutter. "I should be back tonight."

Draco nodded, tipping her head up and kissing her forehead. "I'll wait with bated breath then."

It made her smile, and he grinned like he'd won something. The moment was cut short as she stepped backward toward the Floo. "Tonight " Hermione repeated.

She was worried something— _anything—_ would happen and prevent her from leaving the castle.

Draco's shoulders stiffened when she stepped into the fireplace. He'd noticed something.

* * *

Winky was waiting for her in her bed chambers, a new dress laid over the back of a chair. Hermione stepped in front of the mirror, remaining silent as her clothes were pulled from her frame. Her house elf was quiet, her features drawn and sombre, while she dressed Hermione.

"Princess will be careful tonight?" Winky whispered.

Hermione looked to the side, and she caught sight of Winky's mangled hand. "What happened to your hand?"

She gave pause on the tall stool behind Hermione. "Nothing, Princess. Princess isn't to be-"

"Tell me what happened to your hand or I'll question everyone in this castle." Perhaps spending so much time around Draco was wearing off on her considering her voice had come out as more of a growl. "Winky, you know I'll never hurt you, don't you? Would you please tell me now?"

"Mistress Lestrange is a foul woman."

Hermione turned before her dress was fastened, allowing the straps to slip from her shoulders. She said nothing, moving across the room to dig through a drawer. She returned with a healing salve in her hand, and she let the lid of the tin clatter to the floor. "Can you hold up your hand for me?"

Winky's eyes grew wide. "Mistress Lestrange will surely try to punish Princess if Princess heals me. It's my fault. My fault! I didn't listen!" Winky flinched as Hermione lightly held her wrist.

The skin was raw, and it was clear some type of spell had been used to conceal the smell of burned flesh. Hermione swallowed. "You are my House Elf, and I will decide your punishments if they're to be had. Not some crazed witch who is a psychopath. Hold your hand up, Winky."

"Mistress Lestrange asked me where Princess was before insulting my Princess. A bastard, she said."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "You shouldn't have defended me."

Not that Winky would have ever dreamed of anything less. Her eyes relaxed as Hermione spread the salve across her hand. "I told her that Princess was much more of a witch than she. Kind, and powerful."

She didn't think she was very powerful, not in the sense that Bellatrix Lestrange was. She'd never be able to hold her own against the mad witch, but she supposed that was why she'd been working so hard. "Oh, Winky. What did she do to you?"

"Boil my hand for ten minutes." Winky's eyes filled with tears. "Princess, Winky is sorry. Winky should have kept her mouth shut."

She shook her head. "I wish you hadn't been injured is all. Let's finish getting me ready, shall we? I'll lace my gown with magic so you can let your hand rest."

"What is Winky to do?"

"I'd like you to sit there if you don't mind. Who all is in the castle tonight?"

* * *

That time, her mother didn't appear in a portrait as she adjusted her tiara in the corridor. Hermione stared at the empty frame, willing her mother to appear. She had several questions, all of them bigger than the last, and no true parental figure to discuss it with.

Downstairs, there was a full table waiting for her arrival.

Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy. Both of the Lestrange brothers, and Bellatrix Lestrange. Fenrir Greyback.

She didn't think she'd ever felt such an overwhelming want for violence like she did then. She twisted her bracelet, not sending a message, but only warming it enough to say she was coming. Hermione hadn't considered fleeing the castle since healing Winky's hand.

No, she wanted to bring the castle walls down around their ears.

Slowly making her way down the corridor, her heartbeat grew heavier with each step that brought her closer to the dining room. As she approached, servants opened either side of the door.

Everyone at the table rose. Bellatrix's lips were curved into a wicked smile, her eyes narrowing as Hermione looked right past her, joining her brother at the head of the table with their father. Snapping her fingers, Hermione pulled her chair out for herself with non-verbal magic before taking a seat.

Theo sat across from her, his foot finding hers, offering the smallest bit of comfort, and she nodded.

With little flourish from her father, dinner appeared on the table. Hermione waited in silence for her father to pick up his fork. Though, she didn't have any appetite at all.

She wondered when anyone would speak at all.

Lucius sat at her side, pleasant as he'd ever been, but bile rose in her throat as she recalled the story of Menna. "You look lovely tonight, Princess." Lucius said with a false smile.

Hermione looked to him. Her tip of her brother's boot landed squarely against her shin when she didn't smile. "Thank you." She replied, lifting her fork. All she needed to do was remain quiet, and keep to herself until the end of the dinner when she could escape.

How many Death Eaters was she sitting with?

Did she truly want to count?

There was a low cackle beside Theo. "You look as lovely as you possibly can, but no matter how well you play dress up, you'll still be a bastard." Bellatrix grinned, and her wand was laid before her on the table, her slender fingers reaching toward it.

Her father's foot knocked against her leg through the tulle of her dress. A warning. Pity for him. "Better a bastard than a Death Eater."

A heavy silence crashed down around the table. Theo looked to her with worry clearly written across his face, and her father released a heavy sigh. Bellatrix didn't look surprised. The woman's laugh made Hermione's heart sink.

"She thinks she's better than us," Bella said to her husband. "How precious."

"Hermione doesn't know what she's speaking of." Thoros interrupted. "You'll have to excuse her outbursts."

"Clearly, she's not as well trained as you would have us believe." Bella hissed. "Just like her father, isn't she? Did she have red hair before you adopted her, Thoros?"

It was a small thing, but it hit her hard. She'd never thought of it.

Bella continued on. "Would you like to know who caused your blood traitor of a mother to be killed?" Her lips curled into a sneer.

If her father had thought dinner would last it's duration, he was a fool. So was she for believing she could remain silent.

Even Theo's hand had curled into a fist as Bella mentioned their mother.

"The Dark Lord gave me permission." Bella continued, a cruel twist to her pale lips. "I cornered your father, and put him under the  _Imperius_. I watched, you know. Not nearly as satisfying as doing the dirty work myself, but she begged for him to remember at first. Then she realised there was nothing she could do at all. She cried and cried of how much she loved him."

Hermione's wand was in her hand before she could think, and then she  _knew_  why Draco wanted to kill her father. Her father yelled, but she was already through the movement before he could stop her.

Theo yelled her name, lunging across the table to grapple her by her waist.

" _Crucio!"_ Hermione screamed. A burst of magic shot across the room, but missed Bellatrix due to Theo knocking her backward. It hit the wall of the dining room, setting a portrait on fire.

She had missed.

She had  _missed_.

Bellatrix looked gleeful as she stroked her wand. The dark haired woman shot to her feet. "You'll pay for that."

Theo grabbed her, locking his arms tight around her waist as he Apparated. "Don't let go."

There was a crack while her fingers dug into him. "What are you doing?" She hissed as they landed in the corridor outside her bedroom. "We didn't-"

His eyes darkened. "Apparition wards." Theo breathed. "Goddammit! You need to-"

Hermione shook her head. "I can get out still. I have a portkey to-do you still have the portkey for Harry's flat?"

He nodded. "In my bedroom."

"Go," she muttered. "I'm ready now. I just need to go into my room. I'll send you a message when I'm safe."

Footsteps pounded against the stairs leading to their wing.

"We need to stay together," Theo argued breathlessly.

"Go," she hissed. "Or else neither of us will make it out of the castle." Hermione turned, rushing into her bed chambers as Theo finally parted from her. She had foolishly left the portkey Dumbledore had given her in the drawer next to her bed, naively believing she would never need to escape so suddenly.

As the cool metal of the skeleton key met her palm, her bedroom door splintered. She lifted her head to see the hunkering form of Greyback storming across the gap between them. "Some show you put on there," he snarled. He took hold of her shoulders, shoving her to the wall. "You smell like a werewolf's mate."

She swallowed. "Fuck you."

He laughed in her face. "Haven't sealed the bond yet, have you?"

Her hand closed tightly around the portkey, and she squeezed her eyes as she felt the tugging behind her navel and she was pulled away from him.

* * *

She was hyperventilating when she crashed to the floor. "Draco!" she screamed.

He was nowhere to be found. Hermione swallowed deep breaths of air, fearing the worst. What if he'd found a way to the castle? Draco knew where she was going to be, would have known how terrified she'd been through the unsealed bond.

Hermione yelled his name again as she climbed to her feet on wobbling legs. It was as she made her way around the safehouse, into their bedroom, that she heard him. Turning around, Hermione found him standing in front of her.

His anger was barely contained as he stared at her. Draco's eyes flashed yellow. "What the fuck happened?"

She flung herself at him, looping her arms around his neck. "Death Eaters." Hermione gasped, holding onto him as if he might disappear before her. "I attacked Bellatrix Lestrange at dinner with my father. Oh, God, I cast  _Crucio._ "

Tightening his arms around her middle, Draco led her to the bed. He sat her at the edge, crouching before her as he looked her over for injuries. "You smell like another werewolf. I recognise the smell."

"Greyback." Hermione blurted. "He was there, invited by my father and he, he pinned me in my bedroom. He smelled you on me, and the unsealed bond. I don't know what he was going to do to me. I activated the portkey the first moment I could." She struggled for oxygen as her throat threatened to close.

"You knew when you left here. That's why you kept promising you would be back." Draco muttered, lowering his head and not looking at her. "Why did you lie to me?"

"I feared you would follow me."

He exploded. "Of course I would follow you! There's nothing worse that I can think of than losing you."

Her heartbeat was painful. "Father would have sent trackers after me. If they had found the safehouse… It was a risk I refused to take."

"Let them come," he snapped. "Did you believe I couldn't stop them?"

"What?" She gaped. "Draco, I know you'd tear them apart."

He lowered his voice when she flinched. "What happened tonight?" Draco reached up where he knelt on the floor to take her hands, sliding his fingers through hers. "I wasn't angry with you. I lost my temper when I shouldn't have."

"My father hosted a dinner, and I was forced to attend. Theo was there with me. Your parents were there, the Lestranges, and Greyback. Before dinner fully started, Bellatrix called me a bastard. She went on to explain how she caused my mother's death, and how she watched. I-" She shuddered. "I cast the  _Crucio_. I think would have killed her if Theo hadn't tackled me." SHe sucked in a breath, her shoulders trembling violently. "I don't know if I'm horrified that I tried to torture her in our dining room, or because I didn't succeed." She sighed. "Maybe I'm more like my father than I believed."

Draco shook his head. "Not at all. You were protecting your family."

"Unforgivables are…"

He nodded. "I know."

"I had to mean it."

"I know."

As the words between them fell away, Draco helped her unlace the back of her gown. She took one of his shirts from the chest of drawers and let it fall to halfway down her thigh. Taking hold of her wrist, she sent a message to Theo.  _I'm safe. Are you?_

His reply was instantaneous.  _I'm with Potter. He wants to see you. Can you come?_

_Not without a visitor, and none of us are ready for that. I'll see him tomorrow._

She crawled into bed with Draco, resting her leg across his. "Come here," Hermione whispered, cupping his face and pulling him toward her.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so close to the war at this point that I could clap my hands. I hope this was an enjoyable read!
> 
> Next Chapter Snippet: "The full moon is tomorrow," Draco bit out as he lowered his head. He pressed his lips to her throat, his tongue darting out.
> 
> She shivered. "Is that why you've been more handsy?" Hermione grinned ear-to-ear as she looked at him, the straps of the flimsy camisole she wore slipping from both shoulders. "I have to say, I don't particularly mind."


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm uploading this a day early. Endless thank you's to MykEsprit and mcal for being by alpha and beta, and also my constant cheerleaders while I write this. I hope this chapter will be enjoyable! Please be mindful that there is sexual content in this chapter if it's not something you would like to read.

 

* * *

12 Grimmauld Place.

Hermione thought of the address often. She'd relayed it to Draco the moment after coming through the Floo in the safehouse that night after Harry's party. Most days, her mind was a swirling tangle of thoughts.

She wondered about Gideon Prewett. It would be easy to owl Molly Weasley with an invite to tea, and let the truth spill out of her. She was his sister; surely Molly would have several things to say about him.

There wasn't an opportunity to meet with Molly even if she had sent the letter. As it was, Hermione was risking everything just by disappearing in the middle of the night. The Floo in the entryway was out of the question, as was the personal Floo her father used in his study. It left Hermione to store a training broom Theo hadn't used in years beneath her bed. At least she could hold on tightly to it while she made way to the edge of the wards, and Apparate.

Most often, Draco was leaned against the sofa with his arms folded across his chest. There was usually a kettle on, sometimes whistling when she arrived. She tried to bring dinner, courtesy of the house elves, every night.

Sometimes, like tonight, the food was left on the kitchen island to grow cold. His lips were slanted against hers, his fingers tangling in her hair as he lifted her. Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist. She whispered his name, hands wandering across his hard chest while the curve of her spine met the wall. "What is it?"

"The full moon is tomorrow," Draco bit out as he lowered his head. He pressed his lips to her throat, his tongue darting out.

She shivered. "Is that why you've been more handsy?" Hermione grinned ear-to-ear as she looked at him, the straps of the flimsy camisole she wore slipping from both shoulders. "I have to say, I don't particularly mind."

Draco cupped either side of her face, thumbs tracing her cheekbones. "Don't say that. You'll only encourage  _him._ "

She gave a small gasp as he shifted. With her legs wrapped around him, there was no mistaking the bulge that was pressed against the apex of her thighs. Hermione whimpered, moving against him. She bit his lower lip, scratching his scalp as she pulled his hair. "Draco."

"Fuck," was all he said.

"Bedroom," Hermione whispered. As his eyes flew wide open, she shook her head. "I'm not asking you to shag me. I just… I just want something."

A low growl rumbled in his chest, and he cupped her arse in his large hands. Draco kicked open the door, stumbling toward the bed as he almost tripped over the edge of a rug. His lips skimmed the hollow of her throat, his teeth grazing the skin that had never felt so sensitive before. "You're going to kill me." Draco groaned as she wiggled against him once more.

Her fingers twined in the long hair at the nape of his neck, twisting fine strands around her finger. "Sorry." It was a whisper.

"I don't think you are." He muttered as she ground against him the moment he set on the edge of the bed.

Hermione straddled his waist. Lifting her eyes, she found him staring back at her. Shivering under his dark gaze, Hermione ran her palms up his chest, lingering on the hard lines of his abdomen that were just below the thin fabric. "Can I…?" She trailed off as she tugged the hem of his shirt.

Draco nodded.

In a fumbling move, Hermione pulled his shirt over his head with little finesse. There was a low laugh belonging to him, but it died in his throat when she pressed her lips to his chest. Draco's hand slipped below her camisole, his hand hot and heavy as he rubbed circles in her back.

She dragged her lips from one side of his clavicle to the other. Merlin, she had no idea what she was doing, and didn't want to embarrass herself further by asking him to guide her. She inhaled a sharp breath as his fingers slipped below the clasp of her bra, not removing it, but rather massaging the skin below it.

"Look at me," he murmured. Draco tilted her chin up, his eyes darker than she could have expected. "You don't need to do anything you don't want to do."

She knew that. Hermione arched an eyebrow and sighed. Well, she supposed she'd been acting as if she was fifteen, rather than a grown woman. "You make me forget everything sometimes."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "I'm not upset about that."

Swatting his chest, Hermione swallowed. Her stomach was a pit of nerves as she sat in his lap. A few minutes previously, while she was pinned to a wall with his erection pressed against her through her thin shorts, she hadn't been worried about nerves.

She kissed him harshly, pushing him back onto the bed before laying against him. "Touch me," Hermione whispered, reaching over to grab his hand before bringing it to the curve of her arse.

He kneaded the flesh there, eliciting small gasps from her. His hand slid between their bodies, slowly as if he worried she would push him away. "Draco," she moaned. Her head fell to the mattress as she clutched his shoulders. "Oh, God." Hermione choked while his fingers circled her clit.

Heart beating wildly in her chest, she watched as Draco lay beside her, snaking his arm below the pillow she rested her head on. She said nothing, worried her voice might sound strained. Too preoccupied with how Draco was looking at her, his eyes nearly black, and filled with lust, she didn't hear him say anything.

"Hermione..." It was a whisper against her neck, breath fanning across it. His hand slid across the top of her thigh, and then between her legs. "Spread your legs."

Her blood grew hot. She acquiesced, turning to hide her heated face against her chest. Hermione's cupped his cock through the flimsy sleep pants he wore, and she smirked when he released a choked breath. She couldn't think beyond the fragmented thoughts rattling around in her head. Her fingers tightened around the outline of his cock, slowly stroking.

Draco let his head fall. She felt his forehead fall to the top of her head while his chest rose and fell with each heavy breath. "You're…"

She didn't get a chance to hear what he meant to say because with bad timing, Hermione muttered weakly, "More."

The hair on her arms stood on end when his fingers traced the bared skin where her shirt had risen. Slowly, so slowly, Draco's fingers dipped under the waistband of her shorts. He whispered to her in hushed tones, as if there was anyone who could hear them. Hermione could scream, and no one would know.

Somehow, whimpering his name below her breath made it feel all the more intimate.

Draco nudged her legs apart once more as she writhed on the bed, attempting to squeeze her legs together. "That's it, good girl." He dropped a kiss to her head.

Her climax ripped through her without warning. One moment she was tensing, burying her face in the crook of his neck, and then it was like falling. Draco tilted her face up, kissing her hard without warning. Biting her lower lip, and cupping her cheek, he felt every inch of her shaking. There was something murmured in her ear, purposely so low so she wouldn't hear it.

He disentangled himself from her, standing from the bed. Her eyes dropped to the bulge that she'd just had in her hands, and flicked her eyes back up to his in question. A sly smirk had curved his lips. "What are  _you_ looking at?"

Hermione squeaked. Maybe she wasn't embarrassed, but she didn't want to be caught ogling him either. "I don't know, why don't you show me?" she asked breathlessly.

He arched a pale brow, the corner of his mouth lifting. "Cheeky." The bed dipped below his knee as he leaned forward, lazily kissing her. "Go to sleep. I'll join you soon."

"Where are you going?"

"To take a very long cold shower." He grinned.

Hermione blinked. "But I could… Do you not want me to?"

He chewed his lower lip, casting a long look away from her. "Hermione." It was a warning.

She was long past the appreciation Draco had for her safety. "What?"

"In the morning." Draco said instead, effectively shutting down the conversation. There was a click of the bathroom door behind him and a steady stream of water meeting the tile.

Hermione sat in the middle of the bed, the straps of her camisole still slipping and revealing the tops of her breasts.

She wished she could talk to Daphne right that moment.

* * *

Long before Draco woke, Hermione slid out of bed. She snatched a piece of parchment from the living room, dipping a quill in the only jar of ink she could scavenge, and left a hastily scrawled note.

_I'm going to see Daphne. I'll be back by noon._

She left it beside the food from the night before. Luckily, it was still warm below the stasis charm Winky had cast. Looking at it made her remember what had occurred the night before, and ultimately how he hadn't wanted anything from her. Draco hadn't offered an explanation when he came to bed, and she worries about overreacting.

The full moon was tonight. Touching her as he had must have pushed the limits of his self-control enough already. Whether she was frustrated or not, it was more important to react calmly, and to not automatically let her own self doubt eat at her.

She gripped her bangle, tracing the intricate runes that were etched across it.  _Do you know where Daphne is?_

Theo's reply came swiftly.  _She's here. Sitting room in the west wing if you'd like to grace us with your presence._

A wry smile curved her lips. At least they were beginning to truly return to the only sense of normalcy they could find, even if it was just a sense of humour. Hermione cast one last glance at the bedroom door that was slightly ajar, and she sighed.

She grabbed the note, adding:  _I'm sorry for being short with you last night. It wasn't fair to push your boundaries._

Hermione turned on her heel, and Apparated into the foyer of her home. Silence wrapped around her, and while the castle may have normally been empty unless there was a ball, it felt barren. Winky didn't rush out from one of the adjoining rooms to scold her for wearing muggle fashions, and as she made her way into the west wing, her father was nowhere to be seen. They hadn't held one full conversation since the revelation that she still struggled to accept.

How was she meant to separate the man that had raised her and the one she had never met? Portraits stared down at her, their gazes pinched and unpleasant. Did the portraits know of her parentage? Had they ever looked down on her for something that was beyond her control? There were so many things to ponder that Hermione wasn't sure if she would find answers for them all, but she'd still try.

Daphne and Theo were seated on opposite sofas, the perfect picture of a betrothed couple. Except Daphne was wearing joggers borrowed from Hermione's wardrobe, and a Holyhead Harpies shirt. She sat with her legs crossed, not tucked beneath her, and held a cup of tea in her hand. "Hello, bedhead."

Hermione's eyes widened as her hands shot to her hair. Sleek curls met her touch, and she remembered that she'd made use of the bathroom mirror before leaving. "That's rude."

Her friend smirked over the edge of her cup. "You walked into it. We'll talk about what you got up to whenever Theo leaves." Daphne looked to Theo, still smirking. "You'll have some sort of important meeting to attend to that you'll tell us nothing about, won't you?"

Theo snorted. "Undoubtedly."

Hermione sat at the far end of the sofa, bringing her knees to her chest as she leaned against the armrest. "You have meetings today?"

"Father has asked me to meet with the Head Auror again, this time alone."

"Is it the escapees?" Hermione asked. The memory of Bellatrix Lestrange was never far from her mind, but the fact remained that dozens of prisoners were loose, and absolutely no one knew where they were. "Have they found a lead?"

He shook his head. "I'm sure the Daily Prophet will be the second to know about a lead. Somehow, they always know."

Hermione laid her head against the back of the sofa. "Harry and Ron?"

Daphne cleared her throat. "Harry left this morning with Ron, but they're expecting to return late tomorrow night."

Gone again, Hermione thought. Was it a DMLE sanctioned mission this time?

Theo stood from his seat, brushing off his trousers. "I'll be going. Clearly you only came home to see Daphne and not your big brother." He grinned ear to ear as he came to Hermione's side. Theo squeezed her shoulder. "Try being home tomorrow night. Harry said he needs your help with something."

Hermione bristled under his words. "Where is father?"

"Visiting the Minister, I assume," Theo replied evenly. "I'll see you tomorrow." He bent to press a kiss to the top of her head.

"You may see me tonight."

He laughed. "Don't lie. We both know you'll be long gone by the time I'm home. Next time you need to take clothes out of my wardrobe, grab the ones that are in the bag off to the side. You're not nearly as sneaky as you think you are." He ruffled Daphne's hair as he exited the room, firmly shutting the door behind him.

"There's a love bite the size of a pygmy puff on your neck."

Hermione slapped a hand to the side of her neck, her cheeks flashing hot. "There's a perfectly reasonable explanation for that."

Daphne's laughter was muffled by the back of her hands. "I'll bet there is. What's on your mind?"

She had always appreciated how well Daphne knew her. Hermione would have liked to discuss Gideon Prewett so she could let everything out, but she wasn't there yet. "The full moon is tonight." Hermione said instead.

Blonde hair slipped from its bun as Daphne nodded. "I know. Has he taken Wolfsbane?"

"Of course."

"You'll be safe?"

Hermione traced the floral pattern of the fabric as she debated what to say. Honestly was best, and this was  _Daphne_. "From being mauled, or bitten? Absolutely."

Daphne showed no amusement. "That's reassuring. Why don't you finish that thought, Hermione?"

She slid closer to Daphne, resting her cheek against her open palm. "He's—we're—I don't know how to say this elegantly."

"Then say it bluntly." There was a challenge in Daphne's voice.

She strained not to avert her eyes, and focus on the bust of her late mother in the corner of the room. "I didn't ask Remus about this because of how awkward it would have been, but I think an unsealed mate bond may cause the overwhelming need to...well, mate obviously."

For the first time since the conversation had begun, Daphne looked panicked. Her brows drew together, and her breathing came in short bursts as she leaned forward. Brushing Hermione's hair from her shoulders, she lifted the neck of her shirt. "Did he bite you?"

"Of course not!" Hermione jerked away. "He wouldn't, not unless I wanted it, and maybe not even then."

Daphne shrunk back, sheepish and laid her hands in her lap. "I'm sorry that I assumed so quickly. I just…"

Even mildly offended, Hermione let it go. "The desire to stake a claim is even stronger near a full moon. He's so overcome with the worry his self control will snap that he's locking himself inside of a cage."

"Is the cage to keep him in or you out?" She mused, lacing her fingers together. "It's clear how much he cares about you, and I know that you're upset by the cage." There was no immediate follow up statement, leaving the conversation hanging midair.

"I don't think he should have to stay inside of it."

"I don't think that's your choice to make." Daphne replied easily and Hermione bit the inside of her cheek. "I know you don't want him to be inside of it, but all you can do is accept his decision, Hermione. Otherwise you're trying to make them for him, and you wouldn't like that if it was done to you."

It was sound, reasonable advice. Hermione slid her fingers through her hair, bringing her knees to her chest. "You're right."

Daphne smirked smugly. "About the mate thing," she trailed off. "Did you want him to?"

Hermione picked at the upholstery, her voice trapped in her throat. "Sometimes I think it wouldn't be so terrible, but then I realise there's no returning from it, and it's a discussion better had when I'm clear headed."

"You've only known him for a month. He must be incredible to make you think about forever already."

Tired of lying to those around her, Hermione quietly admitted, "I've known him all my life, and so have you." Drawing a low, uneven breath, she raised her head.

Daphne's fingers were tightly threaded together. "I see."

While on the receiving end of her dark look, Hermione wondered if Daphne could put the pieces together that quickly.

* * *

When Hermione came through the Floo, brushing soot and powder from her hair, Draco wasn't in the sitting room. Placing the food Winky had graciously had prepared for her on the kitchen island, Hermione set off to find Draco.

It didn't take very long.

Draco was lying in the back garden, his head propped up by his forearm tucked behind his head. His ankles were crossed. As she neared him, not making a sound, Draco's body tensed.

Noticing that he feigned relaxation, but his fingers were clenched, and there were dark circles beneath his eyes, Hermione kept a respectable distance between them as she lay in the grass, approximately half a meter to the right. Hermione planted her feet on the ground, drawing her knees up, and staring at the clouds.

"You're too far away."

Hermione let her head fall to the side. "I thought you wanted me to keep my distance." Clouds moved overhead, each slower than the last as the sky grew gradually darker. "I had no right to question you last night. I didn't want it to end, but that's no excuse."

"It's less about you being wrong, and more about my lack of self control when I'm around you." Draco stretched his arm out, his fingers brushing hers as she reached for him. "Of course I wanted to continue, Hermione, but I don't trust myself not to mark you either."

She rolled onto her side, and blades of grass poked her side."Do you trust yourself right now?"

He shook his head. "All I can think about is having you under me."

An image bloomed in her head, all limbs and whispered pleas, but she wasn't sure who was pleading. "How does a werewolf mark their mate?"

There was a harsh breath. "Come here,"

Hermione moved next to him, squeaking when he tugged her to lay in the bend of his elbow. Blood rushed between her ears while his hand splayed across her right knee, pushing her legs apart. "Draco?"

"If I were," his voice was strained, "to mark you, it would be done during sex, which, for as to how I would do  _that_ , is a conversation for another time." Draco traced circles over her kneecap, his eyes flashing yellow. "Right here," he said, his hand dropping suddenly, and sliding up her inner thigh to the apex of her thighs, "is where I would bite you. It's irreversible."

Hermione turned into him while he removed his hand from her thigh. "Okay."

"Still curious?"

"I'm always curious."

He snorted, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Yes, I'm aware." Draco twisted her hair around his finger. "Ask anything you want."

"What do you do when I leave? I've always assumed you read, but I'm curious."

He flung his arm across his face to shield his eyes from the sunlight. "At first, I read the books you left me. You were kind enough to teach me magic, and I didn't want to fall behind."

"You've caught on so quickly, I don't think you truly forgot. It's like riding a broom, and you were always great at that." Hermione peeked up at him. "You just needed a little push. I didn't do anything but use you as a dueling partner."

Draco cracked one eye open, pulling his arm down. "You've improved a lot on a month."

"Let us hope I improve even more before I need anything I've learned."

He stiffened, a low growl rumbling in the base of his throat. "You're brilliant." Draco's voice was muffled by her hair. "We need to go inside."

Hermione followed him closely.

In the basement of the safe house, Remus's cage sat in the far right corner beneath a window. Draco walked toward it, pulling on the collar of his shirt. "You might want to wait outside until after the transformation."

Hermione shut the door behind her, bracing her hands against the weak wood as she rested there. "Do you want me to?" It was important to respect his boundaries, unlike the night before.

Draco reached over his head, taking the collar of his shirt and tugged it over his head. Since his back was to her, she was granted a lingering look at his back. Hermione had felt the scars stretching along his spine under her fingers as they laid in bed, but had never seen them in the full light.

They must have been from Greyback. She gulped, and he heard it.

He glanced over his shoulder, eyes still yellow. "It felt worse than it looks."

She believed it. "I'm sorry."

He continued to strip, stepping out of his shoes before letting his trousers pool around his ankles. "There's no point in destroying my clothes if I can help it."

"It's fine," Hermione muttered.

"Suppose you did ask me to show it to you." He sniggered as she hid her face. Joking felt so  _normal_ , and like she wasn't about to watch him as his bones break and shift. "You're thinking again."

Hermione snapped, "I'm always thinking." Much quieter, she added, "I hate that you were attacked, and left to die."

"Some good came out of it," Draco replied flippantly. "Who knows what our relationship would be like if I wasn't attacked?"

She stormed across the basement, not entirely sure what she was going to do. Draco blinked, stepping a quick step backward. Hermione cupped his face, and crashed her lips to his.

He kissed her harsher than he ever had before, his arms locked around her waist. Draco bit her lower lip, his fingers digging into her hips when a moan left her.

Hermione broke away. "I don't know what our relationship would have been like. Maybe we would have found our way here anyway."

His eyes were cloudy, and she wondered if she was truly talking to  _only_ Draco anymore. At what point did his wolf take over his head? She'd never thought to ask, worried about his personal boundaries. "Before I—you said my father spoke to your father about a betrothal between us. Nothing ever came of it?"

Hermione remembered the day clearly, her anger over being sold as she put it while sitting in the Great Hall during breakfast. Two letters had arrived; one from her father and one from Draco Malfoy, already graduated and traveling across the continent with Theo.

"No, I was able to convince him not to talk about arranging a marriage until after graduation, which isn't traditionally done anymore." Hermione traced his clavicle, well aware of the setting sun outside. "You sent me a letter. You knew long before I did."

"Do you remember what I said?"

Every single word. "You told me you'd find a way to prevent the contract."

"I didn't like you very much." No emotion, just a fact.

"We weren't close, especially after you and Theo started Hogwarts. You have to re—understand that you were my older brother's best friend. You weren't mine in any capacity."

He twitched, and she knew they had drawn their conversation out for too long. "Until now." Draco pressed his lips to her temple. "You'll perform the spells we discussed?"

"I already have. Once you lock the door, I'll be safe from you for the night." Never mind that she believed she was safe regardless.

As his convulsions began, and the iron door shut with a clang, her wrist burned.  _Are you safe? Only say yes or no. -Daphne_

_Yes._

Hermione sat on the floor cross legged, wiping her clammy hands on her joggers.

_Snap._

It was his bones breaking, and her hand flew to cover her mouth as she swallowed a gasp. Through a series of loud cracks, she forced herself not to look away.

Draco had turned away from her as it began, another thing that went through her.

The few minutes it lasted seemed to drag on for much longer.

His paw brushed the cage, and he tried to slip his arm through it in an attempt to reach her.

Hermione moved closer to the cage. "Hello."

 _Hermione._ The voice was gravelly and he reached for her once more.  _He trapped me in here._

"I'm sure he's sorry for that."

Draco huffed, stretching his paws out.  _He's not._

Her eyebrows drew together. "What?"

_I can hear his thoughts, always. Even between full moons. He's terrified to claim you._

She scooted closer to the cage, her wand digging into her bum from her back pocket. "He told me."

_He thinks I'll just throw you on the ground like a savage and bury my teeth in you. I wouldn't._

With the thought of how absolutely furious Draco would be in the morning, Hermione waved her wand. She only removed one layer of the protective warding around the cage. She was still reeling from the echoing, rasping voice inside her head. She hadn't known Draco and his wolf would speak as if two separate entities. "Thank you for saving my life that night."

His teeth were bared to her as he let out a low growl.  _Tearing out that wolf's throat was one of the few things we've agreed on._

"I searched for you. Were you avoiding me?"

_He was, but even he couldn't ignore you the night you came into the forest._

"Did you know when I was attacked?"

_The taste of your fear is bitter, but even worse when your determination and stubbornness follows it._

Hermione laid on the floor, resting her head on her arm. She was pleased to see the white wolf before her sprawling out beside her. She slid her hand through the cage, closing her hand over his paw.

_You're tired. Go to sleep. We'll talk more next month._

A few seconds passed as she allowed herself to close her eyes.

_He's angry at you for taking the wards down._

Her eyes popped open. "That's okay. You shouldn't be alone during the night."

_We haven't been alone since you stumbled into the forest._

* * *

"What in the fuck were you thinking?"

Hermione woke to a booming voice just over her head. She rolled onto her side, curling in on herself. "Not right now."

"Yes, right  _now._ " He snapped, nudging her. "Goddammit, Hermione, you promised me!"

She climbed to her feet, brushing the dirt from her pants. "I know."

His hair was sticking in several different directions, and he hadn't bothered to put on a shirt. "Granted, you kept up the wards where I couldn't get out, but we're never doing this again. You will not be here for the next full moon."

Without a leg to stand on, Hermione understood she had betrayed his trust. "He wouldn't have marked me." She whispered. "I know you're angry, and that I can't change your mind."

"Yes, because you would so much about him." Draco sneered before making his way up the stairs.

Hermione was frozen to the spot. It took several long moments to gather herself, and blink away the tears.

He waited for her in the kitchen, sitting on top of the counter as he chugged a cup of coffee. "You might want to look at the Daily Prophet. There's a letter from Potter as well."

Even after losing his memories, he still called her friend Potter, and it was almost reassuring that some things would never change.

Printed in bold letters across the top of the morning edition read:

**CARETAKER OF HOGWARTS FOUND PETRIFIED:**

**Argus Filch, 52, was found Petrified early this morning at Hogwarts. Filch has been the school's caretaker for 30 years.**

**The Auror Department has not released any further information about the attack or the whereabouts of the alleged attack at this time.**

**The term is still set to begin on September 1st.**

The start of term was only a few days away.

"Merlin," she gasped. Hermione snatched up the letter from Harry. Tearing the seal open, the ribbon holding the scroll closed floated to the floor.

_If you've seen this morning's edition of the Daily Prophet, you already know. Ron and I have been requested by Dumbledore to investigate. We could really use the help if you can spare it for research. Kingsley's cleared you already. Whenever you're read, use the portkey inside of this and it will bring you to Hagrid's hut._

_Harry._

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading another chapter! Please let me know what you think of this chapter or the snippet below if you have time. I'll see you next week. 
> 
> Next Chapter Snippet:
> 
> His eyes darkened. "Daphne's sister said she heard something in the pipes."


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to go ahead and upload this today, but updates will be sporadic for a while. Over the weekend, I've learned that we are likely losing our home, and will be in a bind for the foreseeable future. It's sad, and I wouldn't usually just put it out there, but I like to be open about things. See you next time.
> 
> Alpha and Beta love to MykEsprit and mcal. They are infinitely the best.

 

* * *

Hermione spent two more nights with Draco before leaving for Hogwarts. They hadn't discussed what had happened on the night of the full moon, and Draco appeared to be content to ignore it. He'd said his piece, she supposed. And she knew that it would likely result in another argument when the full moon arrived once more. It wasn't her place to demand she be present, she reminded herself.

"Come on, you can do better than that." Draco spoke through clenched teeth. "Hermione, you aren't focusing!"

She wasn't. Her emotions were getting to her every time she looked at him. Hermione laid her wand on the coffee table he'd moved so neither of them would trip over it. "I'm sorry, but I'm not up to this today."

His brows drew together. "You're not up to it?" Draco echoed. "Do you think a Death Eater is going to ask you if you're up to it before attempting to kill you?"

Hermione brushed past him, and walked into their bedroom. The sheets covering the bed were rumpled. He hadn't ventured to her side of the bed since she'd angered him, and with every morning she woke up  _not_  draped across his chest, Hermione wanted to scream. She'd made a mess of things.

He followed her, his footsteps not so silent as she pulled her suitcase from under the bed. "What are you doing?"

Not giving pause at the gruffness of his voice, she threw the suitcase onto the bed, and flipped it open. "I'm leaving for Hogwarts tonight. I should start packing."

"You're avoiding me now?" Draco sneered, and she was tired of it.

Hermione pivoted, wishing she hadn't left her wand in the other room so she could remind him what she was like when she didn't hold back. "I've done nothing but try to have a conversation with you. All you've done is ignore me. You glare at me when you think I'm not looking, or you hide outside when I'm awake. What's the point of my being here?" She stormed across the room, opening the wardrobe a bit too harshly.

Draco sat at the foot of the bed, pulling her clothes out of the suitcase as she put them in. "I'd like to talk now…"

She bit her lip. "Then talk. Either way, I'm still due to meet Harry and Ron at Hogwarts tonight so  _stop_ throwing my knickers across the room!"

"I don't want you to go," he said bluntly. "Not because I'll miss you, which I will, but it sounds dangerous. One person has been Petrified already, and there's likely to be more."

Shaking her head, she folded her clothes a second time and laid them inside her luggage. "They haven't verified that the threat is still inside the castle. I'm sure I'll be fine. I'll be with Aurors, after all."

"They haven't confirmed that the threat is no longer in the castle either. What does Theo think?"

Her older brother wasn't aware of her intentions. Neither she or Harry had bothered to tell him. Hermione shrugged, offering no answer.

Draco's gripped the blanket tightly. "He doesn't know, does he?" At her silence, he had all the confirmation that he needed. "You're not an Auror."

"I'm not." Hermione agreed, sliding the zipper to a close. "However, Harry asked me for my help because he believes I can be useful." She sat beside him, not touching him. Laying her hands in her lap and lacing her fingers together, she murmured, "This isn't what I wanted to talk about."

He groaned. Draco's head fell forward as he braced his elbows on his knees. "I thought we were going to let that go."

"Not when you're still angry about it."

Draco rose to his feet, pacing in front of her. He walked from one side of the room to the other while running his fingers through his hair in an agitated manner. "I'm still furious with you for what you did."

Hermione nodded, picking at a speck of dirt beneath her nail. "I understand."

He froze, and she wouldn't meet his eyes since she was certain they were hard and unforgiving. "Do you? It's not the easiest thing in the world to tell you that I have no self control around you. I don't like telling you my shortcomings, Hermione."

"They're not—"

"They are, and you refuse to understand. You're stuck in a state of mind that you want to save the werewolves, make them feel human, that you refuse to even think of how the werewolf in your fucking life feels about that!" His chest rose and fell with each heavy breath. "Fuck, I shouldn't have said that."

She was ashamed as she stared at her hands. "No, it's alright. I deserved to hear that." Hermione swallowed. "It wasn't my right to dismantle part of the wards after making you a promise. He talked to me, and I thought that he was so lonely that I should…"

Draco knelt down in front of her. "Hey," he whispered.

Embarrassingly, she'd began to cry as a result of the frustration. He reached up, wiping away the stray tear with the pad of his thumb. "I hated thinking of you being alone."

"You were right there," Draco gently argued. "I wasn't alone."

She buried her face in his shoulder. "It's not the same, you know that."

They sat like that for a while. Draco shifted, putting his back to the bed while she leaned on him. "I should have communicated better. Ignoring you and snapping at you is unacceptable." Draco rubbed circles in her back. "Just try not to break a promise to me again, alright?"

* * *

Hogwarts was silent when she arrived. Her lips still tingling as she landed at Hagrid's Hut, Hermione gripped the shrunken luggage in her right jacket pocket. Harry came bustling out of the shack, Ron just behind him, and then there was Hagrid. The part giant was grinning while he swept her into a hug. "It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

Harry sat with her in the middle of the pumpkin patch well into the witching hour. Ron was already asleep inside the castle, but still they sat underneath the moon. Staring at it caused her heart to clench and shudder in her chest.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather sleep, and be briefed in the morning?" Harry asked. His tone was low, and he hadn't stopped looking all around them since he'd led her outside.

She waved her hand. "I don't think I could sleep if I tried. We might as well make some use of it. Unless  _you're_ too tired?" Hermione paused. "Plus, you really fought Kingsley for me to be here, so I think we should discuss it now."

He snorted. "I think I've slept ten hours in the last eight days, maybe eleven if I was lucky." Harry propped his head up in his hand. "What we know is very little. Filch was Petrified, and we've been unable to locate the source. Though Professor Sprout will be able to brew the antidote rather quickly." Harry explained that it was lucky Professor Sprout's lesson plan for the N.E.W.T. level students included fully matured mandrakes.

"That's for the best, then, but have you not heard anything else? I know it's only been five days, but surely there's something?"

His eyes darkened. "Daphne's sister said she heard something in the pipes."

* * *

She singled out Astoria the next morning before she was due in Transfiguration. "Good morning," Hermione interrupted the girl's conversation smoothly. Ignoring the three Slytherin girls dropping to curtsy, Hermione continued, "Astoria, may I speak to you in private for a moment?"

Her friends scattered. Astoria followed her down a scarcely used corridor, and she straightened her robes before putting her back to the students passing behind them. "Why are you here?" Astoria asked.

"I'm only apprenticing under Professor Snape for a few weeks in preparation for my Potions Mastery." Hermione lied smoothly. It wasn't a complete and utter lie. She had every intention of speaking with the Potions Master about that subject, but she doubted he would be very helpful.

"Your father is allowing you to earn your Potions Mastery?" Astoria's eyes shot open, her lips parting.

It was amusing. "I've not asked him for his permission, and I certainly have no intention of doing so. That's not what I'm here to discuss though."

"If Daphne asked you to talk some sense into me about—"

Hermione shook her head. "Daphne is happy you've found love. Believe it or not, all she wants is for you to be happy. No, that's not what I want to discuss either." She thought it ridiculous that Astoria had been defensive so quickly. "You heard something in the pipes? Where was that?"

Astoria's cheeks flushed. "I already told the Aurors!" she blurted. "I don't want—"

Hermione cast a silencing charm. "Is that better?"

She sighed, leaning against the wall and hiding her face against the stone. "We were in the Prefect's bathroom. We used the shower, and while I… My back was to the wall, and there was a rumbling behind me." Astoria shifted her weight from foot to foot, never making direct eye contact. "The wall shook, and I swore there was something in the pipes. After Filch was Petrified, I was too scared to stay in there. May I leave? I'll be late to class."

Nodding, Hermione said, "Don't let me keep you. Thank you for answering my question."

Astoria hurried down the corridor, but didn't turn before she called over her shoulder, "Don't tell my sister!"

* * *

The headmaster's office was always what he preferred to call organised chaos. As she stepped over a book that had been thoughtlessly discarded, Hermione begged to differ. "Lemon drop?"

Hermione shook her head, settling into the seat across from him. Her back still straight, she crossed one leg over the other. "No, thank you, Headmaster."

He gave a soft sigh before running his fingers through his beard. "How is your stay at Hogwarts so far?"

In the past four days, Hermione had spent most of her time in the large library the school had to offer, pouring through tomes that were housed in the restricted section. And so far, she'd found nothing. "Hogwarts has always been home."

A smile curved his lips, and he idly tapped his fingers over the surface of a book she'd never seen before. "It will always be here to welcome you home. How is your research?"

She fought the urge to drag her fingers through her hair. Dumbledore already knew her research hadn't led anywhere, as Harry gave him status reports each morning. "Professor Dumbledore," Hermione began tentatively, pulling her sleeves over her hands. "What is it that you truly want to ask me?"

He raised a hand, his wand lazily balanced between his fingers, and her eyes widened as the portraits over his head were emptied. "They'll be cross with me once they return. Armando always returns while snapping that this school has fallen far from what it once was."

"Has it, sir?"

He gave a questionable smile, not answering her question. "How is he?"

Knowing the question did nothing to prevent the way her stomach twisted—once, twice,  _three_ times. Hermione hadn't seen Draco in several days, deciding that she was needed here the most, but she had considered asking to use the Floo that was only steps away from her. "His memories are irretrievable, but he's said he has no desire to get them back."

"Most surprising. Why is that?"

"I'm not sure, sir. You would have to ask him."

"Curiously, I heard at the beginning of term that there was a wand missing from Ollivander's. It's a strange thing, you see. There hasn't been a wand stolen from him in years. Typically a trace would be activated."

Her heart pounded in her chest. That would be problematic.

"Of course," Dumbledore drawled. "I took care of that."

Hermione slumped in her chair, her act falling away as she blew out a breath. "He's handy with wand, more so than he was before he vanished." She pulled the elastic from her hair, wincing as her scalp ached while she combed her fingers through it. "We've spent several days learning magic, and sparring."

"Sparring?" He echoed.

She didn't say that Harry had instructed her to do so. "Yes, sir. With the circumstances surrounding his disappearance, and the fact that if he's seen—I thought it was for the best." She fidgeted with a loose thread on the arm of the chair, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth.

"You've told no one?"

Hermione nodded. "I suspect my older brother will know soon, as will those closest to us."

If he had an opinion, and she suspected he did, Professor Dumbledore didn't say anything about it. "It would be best for you to keep the safe house a secret, in any case." He said softly, his robe swishing as he rested his arms on his desk. "The charms that are in place, they weaken with each person made aware of the secret."

Her lips dipped into a frown. She'd never heard of that. "Of course, Professor."

* * *

In the middle of the night, a vicious scream ripped through the castle, tearing Hermione out of a deep sleep. She cast one look across the room where Harry slept. The bed was empty, the sheets tossed haphazardly off of the bed, halfway in the floor. His boots were gone, and she noticed that Ron's bed on the other side of her was empty as well.

Hermione scrambled for a shirt more respectful than the one she currently wore that reached her knees. Pulling it over her head, she didn't delay to change her shorts before rushing from the room. The cobblestones of the castle was cool beneath the soles of her feet, but that had nothing to do with the chill unfurling on her spine.

Following the voices, Hermione came across a crowd standing before a wall. "Harry!" She called, and he held his hand out, pulling her through the throng of onlookers. "What's going on?"

Harry gripped her shoulders, answering her whispered question by turning her to face the wall. "They're calling in Aurors right now." He murmured as Ron came to stand on the other side of her. "Whatever this is," Harry swallowed. "It's still inside the castle."

Written in blood that seeped into the crevices of the stone wall was:

_The chamber has been opened. Enemies of the heir beware…_

* * *

Two hours later, Hermione thought she was surely going to vomit. They weren't going to close Hogwarts, and she didn't—couldn't—understand. Rumors spread quickly inside the castle's walls, and students were beginning to grow hysterical each time the creature was mentioned.

"As basilisk?" Harry asked her. They were hidden in an alcove, her nails biting into her palms as she stared at him. "Do you think it's possible?"

There was not one shred of evidence that would prove the theory. "It's possible, but it's also unbelievable." Hermione replied quietly. "How are they justifying this? Hogwarts should be shut down until—"

He nodded. "I agree, but the Board of Governors has come to a decision that can't be swayed. We're working to resolve this as quickly as we can, but," Harry trailed off as Ron slipped into the alcove alongside them.

"Nott's here."

Her stomach sank. "Theo is here?"

Harry ran his fingers through his hair. "Yes, he's here to take you home. I agree with him. I think it's best for you to leave while there's a chance to."

Her blood boiled. "I'm not leaving. You asked me for my help, and I'm going to do just that." Despite the fact that each creak of a step, or the rustling of the wind meeting a window made her want to sleep with one eye open, Hermione had no intention of leaving. "Theo can't force me to do anything."

"I'll petrify you myself, and take you home." Theo stood behind her, clutching a familiar object in his hand that she knew to be the Marauder's Map. "You left this in my room." He tossed it to Harry. "Dumbarse, don't you think this would be helpful right now?"

Harry snatched it from Theo's hand. "Hermione, I know I asked you here, but I think you should leave."

"It's out of the question." Hermione snarled. "It's targeting Muggleborns, which I am not."

Theo arched an eyebrow. "It's targeting enemies of the heir, which may include blood traitors. It's open to interpretation, and I don't think it's worse risking so you can read dusty old books."

Ron stared at her. "No offense," he began, his eyes drifting back to Theo, "but the Notts were silent supporters of You-Know-Who. Hermione hardly classifies as a blood traitor thanks to your father."

Her brothers brows lifted, and while neither of her friends were looking at her, she shook her head.

As she was reminded of Gideon, she glanced at Ron, andwondered if they looked similar at all.

* * *

_I miss you. I can't say much in a letter for fear it possibly falls into the wrong hands, which, I'm not sure whose hands that would be. You must be reading the Daily Prophet, and I know the news is growing increasingly dire with each day, but I'm safe._

_I'll stay safe._

_Hermione._

She made her way to the owlery, petting Hedwig who perched on the ledge. "Can you deliver this for me?" Hermione whispered, smiling as Hedwig pecked her finger. "I'll bring you a treat tomorrow." She rubbed the top of Hedwig's head, and leaned against the brick as Hedwig hurried away.

Theo insisted on staying at Hogwarts, but his plans were dashed as Father called him home. Theo begged her to be careful, to preferably leave, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head when she made it clear she wouldn't do that.

She hardly saw Harry and Ron since she spent her time hunkered down in the library. Within a week of the bloody threat scribbled across the wall, there was another victim, this one much closer to home.

Astoria's boyfriend had been Petrified, found in a corridor just outside of the Slytherin dormitories. The younger Greengrass had sought Hermione out, her eyes red rimmed and bloodshot as she blubbered the story. " _He was waiting for me, Hermione. We had planned earlier this week to go to the Astronomy Tower to snog, and don't look at me as if you've never done it."_

Hermione hadn't, but that didn't matter.

" _Oh, God," Astoria whimpered, wiping her face. "There was a mirror found beside him. He was just checking his hair. He has this_ ridiculous  _cowlic that I always tease him for, and he always tries to fix it."_

She flipped through the book, coming to a stop in the middle as a loose page flutters to the ground.

Gripping it in her hand, the colour drained from her face as she spun on her heel. The makeshift dorm she shared with Harry and Ron weren't far from the library. They would have already returned since it was well past curfew. Sliding her bag over her shoulder, she ran down the corridor.

There was a hiss to the right of her, embedded, no,  _moving_  inside the wall. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, barely blinking as she continued toward the dormitory. Dragging the zipper of her bag down with trembling fingers, Hermione withdrew a hand mirror. On a suspicion, she had slipped it inside after Astoria had come to her. She hadn't intended to ever use it.

Fuck, she didn't want to use it.

The ornate handle dug into her grip as something snuck up behind her. With the monster no longer confined inside of the walls of the castle, Hermione gulped. Her heart threatened to beat out of her dorm was still a long ways away; she'd never make it in time.

A nail, or maybe it's more apt to call it a talon, carved a path down her shoulder, jagged and raw as it dipped into her skin as if it were ink. She gasped at the pain, but Hermione kept her arm solidly at her side before she attempted to tear away from the creature.

Hermione's scream echoed, bouncing through the corridor, and she knew that even as the lanterns sprang to life, the basilisk would be long gone before anyone discovered her.

She lifted the mirror, catching the sight of yellow eyes in the reflection of the mirror that seemed to shimmer before she saw no more.

* * *

Even if the wards hadn't alerted, a sharp crack of Apparition combined with a vicious tightening in his chest woke Draco. He slid from the bed, plucking his wand up from the letter Hermione had sent two days previously, and exited the room. Whereas he'd expected to see an unruly head of curls, Draco was met with a wizard standing in the middle of the living room.

"Who the fuck are you?" Draco raised his hand, and it sailed from his hand directly into the stranger's open palm.

The man clicked his tongue. "Albus Dumbledore, Mr Malfoy, and I think you ought to have a seat before—"

As if a hand had clenched around his heart, Draco's knees hit the floor. Bracing himself, he gasped.  _Hermione._ There was little else it could be, and the reason for this strange visit began to fit into place. The name Dumbledore sounded familiar because he was the one who had arranged this safehouse. "Where is she?" Draco growled.

"She's in the Hogwarts hospital wing." The reply was soft, barely there at all. "She's been Petrified, Mr Malfoy."

Draco's hand curled into a fist. She was scared, terrified, likely screaming just as loudly in her head as she was across the bond. Not that she could control it, and her cries quieted just as quickly. "Can I see her?"

Dumbledore helped him to his feet. "Yes, but only for a short window. You must dress quickly, and you may only have a handful of minutes before Theodore arrives. I've delayed communication, but not by long."

Draco didn't change beyond pulling a shirt over his head. He wore the boots she'd bought him, and his lips flattened into a thin line.

She would be okay, he reassured himself. There wasn't another option.

* * *

Hogwarts was familiar, if only from the memories he'd seen, but it was silent. Dumbledore led him across a twisting set of stairs after they left his office, and Draco kept the hood over his head steadfast.

The hospital wing was not a far walk. "The room is empty." Dumbledore murmured. "She's laying in the last bed on the right. I imagine you have ten minutes." He pressed a letter opener into Draco's hand. "It's a portkey to the safehouse. The trip will likely be unpleasant considering you're not meant to travel from within Hogwarts."

Draco looked at him, remembering a long list of facts that Hermione told him over several dinners. "It's not possible."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, and he patted Draco's shoulder. "I'm the headmaster. To put it plainly, I'll do what I want."

The door was heavy as it creaked open, and Draco quickly let it close behind him. As the man said, Hermione laid in the last bed, Petrified.

A harsh breath left his lungs. Draco collapsed into the chair beside her, hesitantly reaching up to take her hand. Her arm was raised, a crumpled piece of parchment trapped between her fingers. "Hermione," He whispered.

She was so cold, and no amount of physical contact would warm her. Her features, usually filled with happiness, were frozen in a mask of terror. He didn't know what she'd seen, and he hadn't thought to ask.

Draco swallowed, wrapping her small hand in both of his. "Hermione," it was little use, she wasn't going to wake up, and he had no way to know if she heard him at all. "You have to wake up. Maybe not today, and maybe not tomorrow, but eventually. I don't—" He let his forehead rest against their hands. "I don't want to live without you, and if you can hear me, I know that it's an insane thing to say. Yet I've known you all my life, and I know that insanity has never scared you away."

Hermione didn't move, no matter how much he wished she would.

"I'm sorry we fought before you left." He murmured. "I'm sorry I made you feel two inches tall when all you've ever wanted to do was help. Come back to me."

"Theodore, it's always—"

"Let me in that fucking room right now!" The voice he recognised to be Theo's roared and cursed on the other side of the door.

Draco stood, clutching the portkey in his hand. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he vanished before Theo forced his way inside.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll see you guys when I can. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!
> 
> Next Chapter Snippet: "Have you ever heard of Horcruxes?" His voice was hoarse.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, new chapter. Thank you for MykEsprit and mcal for their continued work on this story. Fair warning that there is sexual content in this chapter. For those of you wondering when Draco and Theo meet, it's already been written, and is coming shortly.

 

* * *

"Hermione, you're going to wake up soon," Harry took her hand, frozen below his own warm one. "And you're not going to like anything I tell you."

She could hear everything around her, the bustlings of the Hogwarts hospital wing, and a blend of voices that she easily picked out from one another. Harry visited multiple times throughout the day. Merlin, was he getting any work done? She had to wonder. Ron popped in long enough to tell her that he should have went with her to the library, and that they were close. Only he didn't tell her what they were close to, and she was left to her thoughts.

In a word, she hated it. To be stuck in her thoughts all day long was dizzying when she had so many questions.

Draco hadn't come back. He must have only been allowed that one visit, and she supposed he was lucky he'd been given that.

She wondered if the next full moon had passed. There was no way for her to know since she couldn't keep track of the days blurring together. Madam Pomfrey's clock on the wall above Hermione's head sounded on every hour, but there was no way to count them when she slept.

"So," Harry cleared his throat. "I'm going to tell you now while there's no one around."

Had she been able, her eyes would have flown open.  _What are you saying? Why do you sound as if you've done something terrible?_

"Have you ever heard of Horcruxes?" His voice was hoarse.

A weight crashed down on her chest, threatening to crack her open. Her throat threatened to close. Horcruxes were advanced magic, but also some of the darkest. What she knew was very little, but she knew that she had seen the name somewhere.

 _Where?_ She needed to wake up.

He swallowed, and his chair screeched as he scooted closer to the bed. "Voldemort made seven of them." A door creaked open, and Harry didn't breathe another word. "Theo, I thought you wouldn't be here until four."

The bed dipped at her feet. "I left father the first chance I had. He's threatening to have the Daily Prophet bankrupted."

_What?_

Harry snorted. "I know they've published questionable articles about him in the past, but why now? Why not when Skeeter made that ridiculous story of Hermione dating Krum and me at the same time?"

The newspaper landed on her legs. Her friend choked. "No one will ever believe this, Theo. They're trying to make up an explanation for why Hermione was petrified. They already released how it said enemies of the heir—"

Theo cut him off. She imagined her brother stood stoically at the end of the bed, his hands tucked inside his trouser pockets. "It's true, Harry. Every bloody word of it, and now the entire world knows."

The chair slid across the stone floor. "Theo," Harry murmured. "How long have you known?"

"A few weeks. She's known since the World Cup. I'm sorry, it wasn't my secret to tell." He said softly. "I wish I could hide this," Theo must have shaken the newspaper, "from her."

Their voices quieted, and Hermione was left in silence.

* * *

Hermione woke minutes after midnight. The medicine had been administered just an hour before, the moment it was ready. She knew, she'd listened to Madam Pomfrey tell her older brother to go to the kitchens to eat, and to not come back until he was full.

Theo argued, but his stomach's loud growl had betrayed him, and the Hogwarts matron shooed him out.

Her limbs were stiff as she sat up, wincing while bracing her back against the pillows. Swallowing, she found that her mouth was dry. Her joints popped, cracking as she rolled her neck from side to side.

"Hermione?" Harry stared at her, the curtain  _whooshing_ as he ripped it open. His fingers were a stark white, a sharp contrast compared to the rest of his complexion, as he gripped the curtain. "You're awake."

She nodded. "Can I get a glass of water?" Hermione choked.

He pointed to the table beside her, and she greedily swallowed mouthfuls. Harry looked to the door, apprehension twisting his features. "I need to talk to you, preferably before Theo gets back."

"About the Horcruxes," Hermione murmured. She clutched the glass tightly, tracing paths down the condensation on the sides. "That's what you've been going on missions for, isn't it?"

"You could hear me? While you were—" Panic stricken, Harry looked around the infirmary. There were other victims of petrification, and she could see him working through the problem silently. "I need to get an Obliviation squad in here." He growled, dragging his hands through his hair and pulling it.

Hermione's chest clenched. Clearly, it was just as serious as she had thought. "Madame Pomfrey didn't give them the cure at the same time?"

He shook his head. "Your father pulled some strings, like he always has, to make the situation benefit him. He wanted you awake first, I don't know why."

Her eyebrows drew together. "The Daily Prophet will have fun with that, prioritising his daughter over anyone else. They'll call it favouritism in a precarious time."

"They've said much worse lately."

Hermione crossed her legs, motioning for him to sit in front of them. "Tell me what you need to tell me. I'll Obliviate them myself. Involving the Ministry sounds like a terrible idea."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, I've successfully used the spell before." She replied.

Surprise flitted across his face, but he didn't ask  _who_. "We'll discuss that another time, won't we?"

That time was quickly approaching, she suspected. Despite not having all of the pieces to a puzzle that mind her mind ache, Draco remaining a secret wouldn't be viable for much longer. "Yes," Hermione breathed.

"Daphne's figured out who your werewolf is." Harry blurted suddenly.

Her heart stopped dead in her chest, and she froze. Hermione's eyes widened. "She—she  _what?"_

Harry's fingers traced a crinkle in the fabric, and he wouldn't meet her eyes. "Theo doesn't know she's figured it out. She came to me actually, and asked me if anyone had told him where you were."

"It was you?"

His hair flopped into his face as he shook his head. "No, it wasn't me. Dumbledore didn't offer me any real answer when I asked him, but I know he's the only one who knew his identity."

Her mouth dried, and where her heartbeat had once stopped, it now threatened to burst from her chest. "You know then?"

"No," Harry replied softly. "She refused to tell me. Daphne said if she did, I would tell Theo. I swore that I wouldn't, but she didn't believe me."

Then Daphne certainly knew it was Draco she'd spent the last two months with, and spent even longer searching for. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut as she thought of how their next conversation would turn out. "No," Hermione swallowed. "You would tell Theo. When it came down to keeping my secret, or being loyal to him, you would pick him."

His fingers halted over the sheet. "What are you keeping from him, Hermione?"

"Nothing good," she murmured. "Horcruxes, Harry. I doubt we have much time before he comes back from the kitchens."

He didn't want to let their conversation go, but Harry sighed. "Do you know what they are?"

Hermione fidgeted with the cup in her hands, now empty. "No, the name sounds familiar, but I've no idea."

"Voldemort is obsessed with immortality." Harry began, his voice dropping several octaves as his fingers knotted in the sheets. "A horcrux is an object you hide a piece of your soul inside to prevent your death. For as long as you have one, you cannot die until it's been destroyed."

It was as if a stone sank in her stomach.

Harry continued, his eyes gradually growing darker. "They can only be created after the witch or wizard has committed murder."

"Okay," Hermione nodded. Her mind was reeling. "This is what Dumbledore has been sending you away for? You and Ron are hunting them down?"

"It's not quite that simple." Harry grimaced. "Yes, we're searching for them, but we've yet to find any. Until we came here, that is." He muttered angrily. "The Chamber of Secrets was opened by Posey Parkinson. You remember Pansy's younger sister? That's her. Aurors are raiding the Parkinsons as we speak."

Posey was much younger than them, only in her third year if Hermione remembered correctly. She certainly harboured prejudice toward some, like she'd been taught in her family, but Hermione didn't think a thirteen year old girl could form a plot like this.

Harry laughed. "Before you start figuring it out on your own, let me have the honor of teaching you something."

Her lips pressed into a thin line, but she laughed anyway.

"Posey's body was discovered inside the Chamber of Secrets—" he held up his hand when she opened her mouth. "How I got inside is a long story, but Parseltongue is a useful skill to have. She was discovered with a diary written by a former student here: Tom Marvolo Riddle."

Hermione blinked. "Is that supposed to be familiar?"

"Well," he laughed darkly. "I'll spare you the dramatic flair, but if you scramble the letters, you'll find that it says  _I am Lord Voldemort._ The diary was a Horcrux, and Voldemort's school-aged self attempted to murder me by using the basilisk. Brilliant thinking, by the way, 'Mione. The Ministry was still convinced it wasn't a basilisk."

She skipped right over the compliment, given only to distract her. Hermione lunged forward, cupping his face and tilting it toward the light. There were no bruises, nothing to show that he'd been in a fight for his life. "You killed the basilisk?"

Harry smirked. "Rammed the Sword of Gryffindor straight through the roof of his mouth." He answered, only a little smug. "The diary is destroyed."

She could barely swallow the information. "You destroyed a Horcrux?"

"Yes."

"Then Voldemort is—"  _Vulnerable?_

"No," Harry said quietly. "Dumbledore thinks he's made seven in total. It's a powerful magical number and  _he_  is a superstitious bastard."

"Do you know what the others are?" Hermione whispered. She could feel her heartbeat thrumming, could hear it pounding in her ears as the edges of her vision blurred.

When Harry shook his head, it was a slow motion—inky strands of hair dropping in front of his eyes, his face falling—but then the door swung open with a creak, and the world continued spinning.

"Harry?" Theo called. "They didn't have that pudding that you wanted. Dobby said they've never made it, and that he's never heard of it either. Did you send me on some kind of fucking chase as a joke because I swear on that fucking ring in my drawer that—"

She desperately wanted to laugh. Theo hadn't meant to say that there was a ring in his drawer, and Harry's cheeks darkened. Theo's footsteps were heavy, and his hand curled in the curtain as he pulled it back. The bowl he held in his hand crashed to the floor, porcelain splintering. His eyes landed on her, full of shock.

"Hi," Hermione said weakly. "I haven't been awake very long."

He rushed to her, tripping over the leg of Harry's chair. The jerking motion sent Harry flying the floor, barely catching himself as his hands shot out. Theo lunged into her, his arms wound tightly around her middle. "Sweet Circe, please never do anything like this again."

Carding her fingers through his hair, Hermione laughed. "I didn't want to be petrified." Her words were drowned by her sharp gasp when he pulled her tighter. "Theo, I'm okay. I swear."

"You weren't," he whispered. "I thought you were dead with Dumbledore came to the castle."

She looped her arms around him, nodding to Harry as he backed away from them. The door clicked shut a few moments later. "I'm sorry you were scared."

He pulled away from her, moving to where he sat in front of her. While they previously had not been, his eyes were red rimmed. Wiping his eyes with his sleeves, Hermione had not seen him so upset since they were small children. "Scared doesn't begin to cover it, Hermione. Father will be here within an hour, but—"

The thought that she needed to  _go_  was overwhelming. Surely her face indicated just that, and she remembered Draco's words to her all at once.  _I don't want to live without you. I know it's an insane thing to say, but insanity has never scared you away._

"I need you to help me get to Dumbledore's office." Hermione blurted. "There's someone I need to see."

His eyes closed, and he blew out a breath. "Hermione, I don't think I need to tell you Father will find you."

"No," She grabbed his hand, cupping it in both of her own. "He won't. It's under a Fidelius."

He dragged a hand down his face. "Are you going to tell me who I'm helping you escape to see?"

Her chest threatened to cave in under the weight that fell onto it. Draco's name was on the tip of her tongue, as it so often was when it came to Theo. "I… I can't."

The bed creaked as he crossed his legs. "I don't know where you go in the middle of the night. You've been petrified, and you've just woken up. Why would I help you go anywhere?"

She gulped. "You know how important it is to me, that's why. It's important enough that I risk Father learning of it, or that I lie to you." Hermione stared at her hands, her eyes trailing to his. "Have you started biting your nails again?"

They were bitten down to nubs, cracked, and ragged. "Now isn't the time to talk about my bad habits." Theo bristled, and it felt so normal that her stomach rolled on itself. "Are you safe where you vanish to?"

"Always."

Theo looked over his shoulder. "You shouldn't go. There are several things we need to discuss, particularly with Father."

"They can wait until tomorrow." Hermione pleaded. "You and I both know that even if I return home with you, I'll only go to sleep. Please, I need—"

"Can you walk? It might draw attention if I carry you." He said wryly. "I don't like it, but I know you're not likely to change your mind."

Hermione threw the blankets off of her, finding herself in the same clothes she'd worn the night she'd been petrified. Her feet met the floor, aching as if they were numb, and she took one slow step after the other. "I can walk, but we may not get there quickly."

He snorted, and looped an arm through hers. "I'm not sure the headmaster will be in his office this late."

"That won't be a problem, but first…" She cast a long look around the hospital wing before reaching for her wand.

* * *

"The password is lemon drop." Hermione muttered, walking slowly as they entered the corridor. "He told me it was changing for the new month before I was petrified." The walk through the castle was quiet, and fortunately no one saw her.

Theo wasn't talkative after watching her Obliviate several students, and she watched him fist his hands in his pockets.

Aurors ought to have been carefully patrolling Hogwarts, but Hermione was grateful there was no one to stop her and Theo. As they reached the door, Hermione turned to face Theo. "I'll send a message through the bracelet when I'm about to come home." She promised.

He stiffly nodded. "Are you positive you can't be tracked?"

"It's a safehouse." She murmured, pivoting from one foot to the other. "I'm sure he'll be unable to find me. Even so, I'm the Secret Keeper. There's not a spell I know he could use."

"There's a load of dark spells you've never heard of, Hermione." Theo pointed out. "I'll point him in the wrong direction as I can. For the record, I don't want to do this."

Hermione rested a hand on his shoulder. "I know that."

He wrapped her into a hug, tucking her head under his chin. "Stay safe. If you're in danger…"

She lifted her head. "I know the address."

* * *

The Floo quieted around her. Hermione took a tentative step, glancing around the safehouse. Books were scattered across the table, the sofa, and the rug that laid beneath the table. In the middle of the night, she didn't expect Draco to be awake.

She made her way down the short corridor that led into their bedroom and found the door ajar. Tilting her head to the side, there was a short lived creak as it swung open. "Draco?" Hermione called.

He stood in front of the bed, wearily looking over her. There were dark circles under his eyes, almost purple, and his hands were balled into fists at his sides. "Please tell me you're real this time."

Hermione took a step forward, nodding. "Yes, I'm real this time."

Draco caught her gently by her forearms, backing her to the wall as his lips came down over hers. "Thank God," He rasped, his hands framing her face. "I thought I was going to lose my mind."

Her fingers slid into his hair, her nails scratching his scalp. "I missed you." Hermione whispered fervently, locking her legs around him when he lifted her. "I missed you so much."

"Do you have to go?" Draco asked, and his voice was reserved.

"I'm not leaving tonight. I'm all yours." She promised, her eyes searching his.

They were yellow, and for the first time, she wondered how close they were to the next full moon. "Doesn't your family need you?"

"Maybe," she admitted, "but I need you."

His lips frantically met hers, the kiss deepening as he turned them toward the bed. "When did you wake up?" He murmured against the skin of her throat.

Her head met the pillows, and she melted into them, reaching up for Draco when he hovered over her. "Less than an hour ago. I've spoken to Harry and Theo; Theo helped me get out of the castle before my father arrived." Hermione considered mentioned that Daphne knew about him, but left it for the morning. "I wanted to come straight here. I remember."

He glanced at her, his fingers tightening in the sheets on either side of her body.

She cleared her throat. "I could hear you when you visited me. I remember every word you said." Hermione traced his forearms, nibbling her bottom lip. "I thought about you, while I was Petrified, and even though I knew eventually I would wake up, I couldn't stop the fear that I would never see you again."

Draco kissed a path along her jaw, lowering to her neck while her nails bit into his shoulders. He didn't say anything, the only sound between them was her uneven breathing as he dragged his tongue across her clavicle. "I missed you so much." His voice cracked.

Her shirt came off first by his steady hands, unlike hers, which were already shaking. "Come here," She reached for him, and they met in the middle.

Draco's fingers were warm against her skin, his thumbs rubbing sure circles as his lips skimmed over the top of her breast. "Sometimes I could hear you talking." His words were nearly mute as she reached around her, fumbling with the clasp of her bra. "And then it would stop."

Her eyes widened. "I did? I had no idea, but I suppose I did think of you quite a bit, the majority of it really…" As she trailed off, heat bloomed in her cheeks while Draco grinned. "Shut up."

He barked a laugh. "I didn't say anything!"

"You were thinking it." Her laughter was muffled by his shoulder, and she looped her arms around him. Her bra fell to the floor, pushed off the side of the bed by him, and it was quickly forgotten. " _Oh._ "

Hermione gripped his hair roughly, her body tensing as his thumb brushed over her nipple, and his mouth replaced it. She squeezed her eyes shut as his hand slid between her legs, slipping into her pants before stroking her clit through her knickers. "Off," she groaned.

Draco froze.

"Not you, I mean—Merlin, I am  _terrible_  at this." She glared at the ceiling. "I meant my pants. And then my knickers."

He vanished them, looking smug when her lips parted. "I've been practicing."

Truthfully, she didn't care to focus on his wandless magic, not when he was staring at her as he was—his eyes growing darker as he swallowed hard. Draco moved first, cradling her face, and kissed her until her toes curled and she couldn't breathe. "You're gorgeous."

Her voice was trapped in her throat, and all she could do was nod.

Draco's hands found hers, his fingers sliding through the gaps of hers, and he held them loosely over her head as he slowly kissed her. His knee pushed her thighs apart, his pelvis pressed to hers.

Between her gasps that turned to moans, and his fingers sliding against her, her belly tightened. "Draco, I want—"

He glanced at her, and she caught his eye colour shifting from a familiar yellow back to gray.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, dragging her nails down his back. "Please?"

His hesitation had nothing to do with not wanting her, Hermione knew that. Just as she thought the moment was gone before it fully began, Draco nodded. "Sweet fucking Circe," he growled.

 _No more waiting, no more, not even for one second._ She was on the verge of begging, which was sure to come out a string of incoherent babbling, when Draco slowly slid into her. Wiggling until her hands were free, Hermione raked her nails down his back, and threw her head back.

His gaze never left her, not even when she knocked the lamp from the table by throwing her hand out, and it splintered. Though he did chuckle.

She whimpered his name, tangling her fingers in her own hair as his pace quickened, each thrust robbing her of breath. "Oh, Salazar."

Draco slid his arms under her, wrapping around her back, and he picked her up easily. Holding her up while sitting on his knees, the new position gave way to a new sensation. Murmuring into her skin, his breath tickling her neck, he told her that she was incredible. "...everything I wanted."

Teetering on the edge as he reached between them, Hermione kissed him roughly. It was teeth, and nipping while she clung to him, her moans growing more strangled with each passing moment. "I want this, all of it. Maybe not right now," Hermione admitted in a weak whisper. "But someday."

There would be bruises where he had gripped her hips in the morning. "Someday." Draco growled, the sound possessive and sinking into her bones as he crushed her to him. "That's it," he said as she neared her climax, her eyes screwing shut. "Just like that. You're everything, did you know that?"

Hermione cried out, burying her face in his shoulder as she shuddered. Utterly spent, she watched as he laid her back, laying at her side while they caught their breath. "I meant it."

"So did I." Inching across the sheet, Draco found her hand with his own. "Would you care to take a bath?" he murmured.

Arching an eyebrow, she grinned. "Together?"

She had missed his laugh the most.

* * *

In the morning, Hermione could barely pull herself away from Draco. Her legs were sore, and there was an ache between her thighs—something he noticed, and he smirked when he did. "I'm sure I'll be away for most of the day, possibly the night." Hermione said.

It took ten minutes to dress normally, possibly an extra ten to detangle her hair with beauty charms. Considering it had been three weeks since it had been brushed, Hermione had stood in front of the mirror for an additional thirty.

Thirty minutes that turned into forty-five when Draco could not keep his hands to himself.

Not that she attempted to squash the habit.

As she lingered in the kitchen, Draco slid an issue of the Daily Prophet toward her. "I suspect your father will show you this, but…" He bit into his biscuit.

**FALSE PATERNITY: HERMIONE NOTT**

**NOTT OR PREWETT?**

Hermione tossed her breakfast into the rubbish bin, immediately losing her appetite. A memory made its way to the surface, and she recalled a conversation between Theo and Harry.  _So, this was what they'd been talking about._

Harry said in the hospital wing the Prophet had published much worse recently. She supposed this was what he'd meant.

_A grateful thanks to close sources to the royal family, for without them the truth might never have come to light._

_Hermione Nott—shall we even call her that? The young woman is truly a Nott, thanks to King Nott's magical adoption performed in a ritual at the height of the war. The young princess's true parentage was revealed to me last week, which was a shock indeed. In an edition last week, Princess Nott was reported to have been the latest victim of Hogwarts._

_Until the tragic discovery, only Muggleborns had been petrified, and a Squib on the grounds. The threat 'Enemies of the heir' is, of course, open to interpretation, but does it include so called Blood Traitors?_

_Aurors seem to believe so, if the threats are to be believed._

_Gideon Prewett was a member of the Order of the Phoenix, slain in a blitz attacking against Death Eaters. Before his death, he carried on an affair with Queen Nott for well over a year, resulting in the witch's second pregnancy._

The article went on to speculate for how long Hermione had known, for how long Theo had known.

There was a copy of the live birth record, taken—perhaps illegally—with St Mungos emblem written across the front. There was a false copy, the one that named her a Nott by blood. Below it, Hermione skimmed the adoption record.

Clearly, in blocky print that looked  _so_ much like Ron's, read:  _Gideon Prewett._

Thoros Nott laid at the bottom. When she looked at the date, her eyes widened.

"Gideon signed this the day he was killed." Hermione swallowed, her fingers trembling. "My mother's name isn't here."

Draco remained silent, clearly having already come to the same conclusion she had.

"She was already dead, and he knew even then that he was going to die." She croaked. "Merlin, Molly has seen this. She's going to have kittens."

"I think," Draco winced, "that may be putting it mildly."

She nodded. "I need to go. I'll be back the second I can." Hermione shoved the newspaper into the bin, and reached for him.

He kissed her slowly, fingers drifting to where he'd held her hips the night before. "I'll see you then. The full moon is this week." Draco trailed off, looking to her. "If you want to be here, maybe we should try again."

Her chest constricted. "I'd like that." Hermione left him with those words, hurrying into the Floo.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that this chapter was enjoyable. I'll update as I can when writer's block lifts. Also, the snippet was picked because I laughed when I wrote it.
> 
> Next Chapter Snippet: "You're the one with the bollocks to tell him he's not acting like a king, you go!" Theo snapped.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for an update! They still remain sporadic, but I'm hoping to build up some more chapter to resume weekly updates. I hope you'll enjoy either way. Alpha love to MykEsprit, who is a professional at talking me off the ledge, and beta love to mcal, who is the best fandom friend anyone can have.

 

* * *

Plumes of green smoke rushed around her, and she landed in the castle Floo, and she held onto the handle at the side. Theo stared at her, pivoting his weight from side to side. "I thought you were going to be home sooner."

So had she, but memories of a morning tumble sprung to the front of her mind. "I'm sorry. I did too. Where is Father?"

Theo fell into step beside her, rubbing his wrist as he led her toward the study. "He spent the entire night searching for you. He involved the Ministry and the DMLE. When they weren't able to find you…" He trailed off. "Father knows that I helped you."

"You told him?"

He shook his head. "Of course not, but it's not so hard to piece together when I was the last one to see you once you woke. We've always gotten each other out of trouble."

"Thank you for helping me last night." Hermione whispered. The castle was eerily quiet around them. "You don't have to go with me. I'm sure you've had enough of him after—"

Rolling his eyes, Theo pulled her down the corridor, fingers entrapping her wrist. "I'm not going to leave you. Silly witch."

As they come to the door, Hermione's eyes are caught by the portrait of Thassus Nott, and her blood ran cold. "Theo!" She hissed, yanking him so hard that the rug slid one way, and his body the other. "Do you see anything different?"

His stare was empty. "What are you on about? We have more important things to do than to stand in front of our grandfather. Come on."

Hermione didn't budge.

She wasn't sure why her blood ran cold, but Hermione stepped closer, running her fingers along the oil painting. Magic thrummed beneath her fingers, as if she could reach into it like she would dip her fingers in water.  _Something just below the surface._ Hermione swallowed roughly, peering up at Thassos, and then to Salazar Slytherin.

The locket was gone.

There had been a locket, hadn't there?

The study door swung open by magic, revealing her father. He stood tall, but there were deep lines etched into his face, and his wand was held slack at his side. "When I asked you to retrieve your sister from her secretive escapades, I would have believed you would come straight to me.  _Not_ ," his tone is sharp, "this."

 _The locket was gone._ It was as if it had never been there at all. There were no blemishes in the surface of the painting, nothing to indicate it had been tampered with. The two voices around her were a dull roar as they grew louder, and Hermione gripped her wand.

The portrait shimmered as her wand skimmed the surface, rippling like waves of water lazily swaying.

Her father attempted to snatch her wand.

Hermione shifted her weight, eyes flying open, and kept him at the end of her wand. There was a spell at the edge of her tongue, only in case he decided to disarm her. "Where is the locket that was in this mural?"

His nostrils flared, an instant reaction before he could mask his face with indifference. "It's a magical piece of art, Hermione. Things disappear from them all the time."

They didn't move as it had, however. Certain that an entirely different scene would have been revealed to her as the brushstrokes shifted, she pressed, "Don't lie to me."

Theo stood to her side, angled defensively. "I don't think we need to discuss this right now." He muttered.

Her arm didn't so much as trembled. "There's something different about this mural, Father. What is it?" She asked quietly, her voice steady.

"Stay away from it!" He hissed. Thoros pointed his wand at the mural, his gaze never leaving her. Without a word spoken, the walls creaked as they shifted.

The mural vanished on the other side of the wall, its blank counterpart on the other side taking its place.

Her brother's eyes widened in disbelief. "What in the—"

"Don't involve yourself in things you don't understand." Her father sighed. "Hermione, you can't continue to disappear like you have been. It's a dangerous time now, and you're not safe."

She inhaled and exhaled two calm breaths before lowering her wand. Her temper wasn't going to get her anywhere, except possibly St Mungos. "Do you suppose I'll be safe at home while Death Eaters are inside? Or maybe you think I'll be safe with Greyback, who murdered Draco, and pinned me to the wall in my bedroom. And you  _allowed it."_

"Hermione—"

"No!" She snapped. "If I'm not safe, it's because of you and the choices  _you_  made. You expect me to leave the country until this is over, but it will never be over if we don't stop it! It will spread to other countries if its allowed to fester here."

He gritted his teeth. "What would you have me do then?"

Theo's eyes darted between the two of them. "Don't," he whispered.

She would remain calm. "We have a responsibility to Wizarding Britain." Hermione breathed. "You taught me that. Responsibility is more than organising charity galas. Right now it's protecting them from a megalomaniac."

When he didn't reply, she thought he would strike her.

Maybe she had finally gone too far.

"Your only responsibility is to keep yourself alive." He said quietly. "I will—"

"How can you do anything when you're a Death Eater?" Hermione cried. "You invite them into our home. You go to the Dark Lord's side when you're called as if your his subject instead of a king!" The words left her mouth, and her father glared at Theo. "Don't blame him. I've known."

It was a slight lie. Theo had told her, but eventually, she would have put the pieces together.

The silence that stretched between the three was stifling until their father strode into his study, his robes swaying with each step. Hermione looked to Theo. She motioned for him to go first.

He made the same movement.

"Stop it! Just go—" She growled.

"You're the one with the bollocks to tell him he's not acting like a king, you go!" Theo snapped.

The moment felt like she'd been drowning and had finally broken the surface. Hermione went ahead of him, freezing as a loud smack filled the air. In front of her, her face stared back at her from the cover of a Daily Prophet. "You weren't safe before, but I could have controlled it even after you attack Bellatrix Lestrange—which must be one of the foolish decisions you've ever made." Father snarled.

She knew that. It was a monumental fuck up.

"With this," he gestured, a scowl twisting his mouth. "I can't do anything. You've always been the center of the spotlight, my only daughter, and now the entire world has put you in a precarious situation. You are not to leave this castle, not even for a moment. If I find that you have, I will find you, and I will burn down cities to do it."

She flinched at the visual. "That's ridiculous."

"You are my child. You'll find there is little I wouldn't do for my child who has been branded as a  _Blood Traitor_ after attacking a Lestrange and her true parentage _._ " He spat, his fingers curling on the edge of his desk until the colour drained from them.

"I'm sure it was Bellatrix who reported that." Hermione said quietly. "It's terrible that Skeeter has revealed a personal secret of mine to the rest of the world, but beyond that, all she's done is report the truth." Her father's eyes narrowed on her. "I am a Blood Traitor, if that's how you want to think of me."

The silence was so still a pin dropping would have resulted in an echo.

Father's face contorted in anger, and then morphed into pain as his gaze dropped to his left arm. He cast a heavy stare over Theo, sighing as he pulled the drawer of his desk open. It was opened by his magical signature as he waved his wand across the top. He withdrew a silver mask, donning it.

As he stared at her from behind the mask, Hermione thought she would vomit. The ground swayed beneath her, her vision blurring around the edges.

She used to stare at his eyes as a child. She'd asked more than once why his and Theo's eyes were such a rich shade of blue, and hers a dull brown.

"Don't let her leave the castle." Her father barked, and he vanished with a  _crack!_ that sunk into her bones.

It happened quickly after that.

Theo's voice was tense, and his hand drifted toward his wand while she'd already summoned hers from the pocket of her cloak. "I don't know what you're planning to do, but you need to think before you do anything."

She nodded. "I've thought about it."

He gaped at her. "Hermione, you haven't had the time!"

Hermione shook her head. "It's all I think about, but you're right. I'll wait." She glanced around the room, viewing everything in a different light now that the last of their family seemed to crumble.

"This came for you while you were petrified," Theo said, breaking the quiet while he picked up a letter from the desk. "Father tried to open it, but there's a Knock Back Jinx on it for anyone who isn't you." He rumbled a laugh. "Molly Weasley sent Father flying back into the wall."

She tore the letter open without laughing, even though the thought was comical. Searching the parchment, Hermione found a short letter written in pretty cursive. In the looping letters, she read:

_Hermione_

_I believe we have much to discuss. I understand that you're currently in no state to carry on a conversation, but please visit the Burrow the moment you can. The Floo is open, and you've always been keyed into our Apparation wards. I hope to see you soon._

_Molly_

"I should go," Hermione murmured. "Theo, I have to—"

He nodded. "I know."

"Father…" She trailed off. If she were to leave, Theo would pay the consequences, and hadn't her brother already dealt with enough when it came to picking up after her?

A small grimace crossed his face as he held his wand out to her. "I know that too. Disarm me, and stun me."

He mouth fell slack. "Father will be even angrier that I bested you!"

Theo sniggered. "First of all, I'll kick your arse in a real duel. It's fine, Hermione." He squeezed her shoulder. "Let's see if your practicing has paid off."

" _Expelliarmus!"_ Theo's wand sailed through the air, and into her waiting palm. She left it laying on the table for him to pocket once he picked himself off the floor. "Ready?" She grinned.

"Do your worst."

Her worst turned out to be worse than she was expecting. " _Stupefy!"_ Hermione watched with wide eyes as the flash of red hit Theo square in the best, knocking him backwards over an armchair. He kicked a lamp on the way down, shattering the heirloom.

"Bloody fuck, that hurt!" He growled from behind the chair. "Try again, and do it better this time!" Theo snapped, not bothering to move as she stepped around the chair.

Hermione Apparated before he decided to duel her then rather than later.

* * *

She lingered on the stoop, gnawing her lip as she considered returning home, and pretending she'd never come at all. The Burrow stood tall, disproportioned in front of her, and the door was crooked by just a hair after Arthur had insisted on installing it the muggle way.

Hermione knocked on the door, giving herself no chance to escape. When it swung open, she barely uttered a "Hello," before Molly wrapped her in a tight hug.

"Oh," Molly breathed, smoothing her hair down. "I'm so glad that you're okay, Hermione." She laid her arm across Hermione's shoulders, steering her inside. "Arthur will be at work for several more hours, so I have the house to myself. Would you like some tea?"

She wasn't sure she could keep it down. "No, thank you." Hermione took a seat on the sofa, tracing the multiple patch jobs. "What was he like?"

Molly's eyes watered. She tucked flyaway strands behind her ears. "Gideon was wonderful. He was my older brother, and the funnier out of the two twins."

Hermione tucked her legs beneath her. "The funnier one?"

"Oh, yes," Molly choked out a laugh, wiping her eyes. "Fabian was always so serious. He became an Auror, and Gideon followed. You never saw one without the other. They protected their family, but I think you know that already."

"Did you know about me?" The question had weighed on her since shortly after the revelation, but she couldn't see Molly never reaching out. She just wanted the confirmation.

She shook her head. "No, dear. I knew he'd had a child, but I had no idea that it was you. Fabian knew about your mother, about you. There are photographs Gideon left in a lock box if you'd like to see them."

Hermione blinked. "You've seen them?"

"No, it's shut to anyone that isn't you, I believe." Molly crossed her ankles, and flattened the wrinkles out of her skirt. "He spoke to me before he left. Gideon loved your mother dearly, I know that now. If Death Eaters hadn't killed him after—" A whimper left her and her face fell into her hands. "I wish he had stayed in the safehouse."

Hermione wanted to say the same. What would it have been like to know him? How would her childhood have differed? Was it fair to say she missed someone she'd never known? "I'm sorry, Molly." Hermione went to her side, sitting beside her and gathering her hands in her own.

Molly laid her head on Hermione's shoulder. "What do you want to know about him? I don't imagine you want to discuss the very end."

She didn't, but Hermione thought it was just as important to remember as well. "Do you think he would have liked me?"

A sob wrenched free of Molly's chest. "He adored you, I know he did. I know he still would. Gideon would be so proud of the witch you've become."

With her thoughts echoing inside her head, Hermione slumped. "Are you ever angry at him for charging after those Death Eaters? Do you blame him for leaving? What does it mean if I want to blame him because he's not here, and now I wonder how my life could have been different?" Hermione didn't want to pity herself, nor did she want it from anyone else.

But the thoughts kept her awake at night. What could—would—have been if he hadn't acted so rashly. It felt a lot like thinking of herself, considering her own track record of quickly made decisions.

Molly stroked her hair. "I'm furious with him some days, but it's been so long now that I only miss him terribly. When we learned what had happened, and mind you, there was a large cover-up and we didn't know everything, I screamed. I screamed and screamed at the sky because I wondered if he could hear me. I accused him of leaving his family, a newborn daughter that I might never meet because all he had told me was that someday she would come to me."

Her eyes burned. "My father adopted me the day before Gideon was killed." Hermione murmured.

"Gideon knew what he was going to do before he left that day." Molly replied. "I don't know if he told Fabian because they were so close, or because Fabian put the pieces together himself, but Gideon wasn't alone."

Hermione's head snapped up. "What? That's not—"

"It's not in the records, I know. Nott covered up quite a bit, Hermione. Some things were caught in between it all, and it never made its way onto a report. Fabian and Gideon entered that fight together, and I'm certain both of them knew."

"Seventeen Death Eaters died." Hermione stated. "It was Fiendfyre, it was," She broke off, digging her fingers into his hair. "Even when I thought it was only Gideon, I thought it was impossible for him to fight against so many, but two? That's no less shocking."

Molly rubbed circles in her back. "I know. They made quite the team then."

"I wish I could have known him." Hermione admitted quietly. "I think I may have turned out more like him than my father even though he's never been here." Wiping her bloodshot eyes, she looked up at Molly. "Do you hate my father?"

"Hate is such a strong word, Hermione." Molly whispered. "I don't hate him, but that's not to say there haven't been days where I said I did. It's difficult to hear you call him your father, but that's no fault of your own. He  _is_  your father."

She traced where the fabric of the sofa had split. "I wish he wasn't. Do you think it makes me a terrible daughter?"

"Not at all." Molly smiled. "You've been through an ordeal, and learning such a jarring secret must leave you confused."

Having the name Nott had never felt like a curse, but in the recent weeks, and after the morning she'd had, she wondered if it hurt her more than helped her. "I want to refer to Gideon as my father, but it feels as if I'm betraying the man who raised me—" He had betrayed her, hadn't he? Was it ever so simple to be just black and white? "—but I'm not sure that the man who raised me is the one I want to aspire to be."

Molly's fingers froze.

"Everything I hear about Gideon Prewett are things I wish I could be, but I've clearly never reached those aspirations. I'm spoiled to the point that I've always gotten what I wanted. And for what? How far has that gotten me? I've relied on my title rather than my wits. My temper leaves much to be desired."

"Well," Molly cracked a smile. "You probably got your temper from Gideon. It's a Prewett trait." She laughed.

Even Hermione couldn't stop her lips from curving up. "He was brave, and I'm not at all. He was in the Order of the Phoenix—"

The woman—Merlin, her  _aunt_ —shushed her by placing a finger to her lips. "Hermione, you've always been critical of yourself. Yes, you've been spoiled, but that's not to say it can't change, is it? You're far from cowardly, however, and I won't even indulge you for a moment for you to say you are." She stood, offering her hand. "Come with me. I have something to show you."

Hermione wiped her tears with the end of her sleeve. Molly led her up the stairs and all the way down a corridor before she laid her wand against a doorknob. "I thought this was a storage closet."

Molly gave a chuckle. "That's what we told you kids so you would stay out. None of you ever lifted a finger for cleaning supplies."

A flush rolled over Hermione's face and down her neck. Merlin, it was embarrassing to think of the hospitality she'd taken advantage of without ever offering anything in return. "I'll clean the Burrow now if you like."

"Nonsense. You were always a guest here, no need to clean my mess, dear. Now, these are all things I gathered after Gideon and Fabian were killed. I had hoped I would meet you while you were a toddler, so you'll have to forgive the toys…" Molly opened a drawer, and pulled a small box from within. "First of all, I'd like to give this to you."

The black velvet box was heavy in her palm, and Hermione gripped it with both hands as they shook. "This is his?"

Molly nodded. "Would you like to open it?"

She tore it open, breath leaving her chest as she recognised the crest. It was since considered lost after the Prewett name had died out after the end of the war, but she knew it. There was a small painting inside the Burrow with it, and Molly wore the necklace's twin. "I can't take this."

"You can. It was his, and now it's yours. In fact, he left if before he... "

She traced the etching of the crest, her finger ghosting over the surname engraved at the bottom. "It's okay for me to wear it? Even if I'm not sure I'll ever go by this name?"

Molly took the chain from her, and dropped it against her chest. "You don't have to choose a name you go by, Hermione. Gideon wouldn't care that you didn't take his last name. He would have just wanted you to know how much he loved you."

The amount of love wasn't measurable, not in ways that she could fathom.

What was it like to love someone so deeply that after losing them at your own hand, you would perform an act so large—so particularly violent as well, even though it was for the greater good—that it was still told years later?

Over twenty years later.

The crest was cool against her chest, and Hermione clutched it, the silver warming in her grip. "Can I ask you something?"

Molly brushed her hair from her face as she nodded. "Anything you like, whenever you like."

She bit her lip. It would be dangerous to give away too much information, and Hermione chose her words carefully. "If one of my friends were in danger, and I knew information that could prevent it, what would my father tell me to do?"

"Hermione…" Molly's voice was a warning. "I don't want you to take the advice of a dead man and throw yourself headlong into danger." She sighed. "I can see the look on your face. Before you panic, the Order of the Phoenix has never dissolved fully. I'm well aware of what's going on."

That didn't mean she could be completely honest about the comings and goings of  _her_  home. "What would he have done?"

Molly sighed, and her shoulders fell. "Gideon would have done something to stop it. But, Hermione,  _please_ be careful."

"I will." She promised.

They spent the rest of the afternoon together, going through photo albums. Hermione found herself coming back to a picture of Fabian and Gideon, with Gideon holding a swaddled newborn in his arms while grinning.

Her heart cracked.

* * *

Without giving herself time to reconsider, Hermione went to Harry and Ron's flat. The wards would alert both of them, and it would be easier than getting into Hogwarts. Taking a seat at the kitchen table, she didn't have to wait long.

Two identical cracks vibrated the floor, and Hermione came face to face with them both. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to scare you."

After a quick recovery, Ron wrapped her into a tight hug. "Merlin, do you think you could let a bloke know before you pull a disappearing act? We tore the castle apart, and it wasn't fun with your father breathing down our necks."

Hermione slipped out of his grip, looking sheepish. "I can imagine. I'm sorry. There was—" She was so  _sick_ of lying. "There's someone I've met, and I needed to see him."

Ron opened his mouth once, twice, three times before he was able to form a reply. "Okay, that's not what I was expecting you to say, but alright. Anyone, we know?"

Harry gripped the back of a chair. "She can't tell us." He said then, clearing his throat. "Hermione, as happy as I am to see you, is there something you need? Otherwise, we have to go."

"I need to make an anonymous tip to the DMLE, and I would prefer to go through the two of you since it's the only way I know it will stay anonymous."

Both boys pulled out a chair and sank into them. Harry nodded, pulling a pad from his pocket. "That bad?" He asked.

Hermione could only nod. "Theo will know it was me. He's going to be furious, but I can't keep these secrets anymore."

There was a flash of recognition in Harry's eyes that Hermione completely looked over.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is fully written, and I have a solid draft of chapter twenty-one. Thank you for reading. I'd love to read any reviews of what you think. And yes, it's that scene that I think we've waited long enough for.
> 
> Next Chapter Snippet: Hermione slung her legs over the side of the bed. "I need to go."
> 
> "No," Daphne hissed. "I think you've done enough running, Hermione." The words that left her mouth left no doubt of what would follow. "I've kept your secret for long enough. Theo needs to know."


	20. Chapter Twenty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got my shit together to update this week. Look at me. Thank you for all of the love you've given this little story that makes me lose my mind. Love to MykEsprit for being my alpha, and mcal for being my beta. I wouldn't get anything done without them, and any mistakes are my own. Tiny note at the bottom, which is really just me talking.

 

* * *

Flicking through the pages of a Potions Mastery Guide, Hermione barely glanced up when the door leading into the drawing room flew open with a fierce crack that vibrated the walls. She didn't flinch. Not when she had been expecting it since Harry cracked open the door to her bedroom that morning, and left her with a whispered explanation.

Theo's eyes were a harsh blue, completely trained on her, as he stalked across the room. " _You,_ " he hissed, more venom laced throughout his tone than she'd ever heard. "What were you thinking?"

She gently closed her book, laying it on the table as she stood. Hermione smoothed her dress, and didn't break eye contact. Theo deserved that much at least. She'd taken the secrets that were  _his_ , and turned them on their head. "You've heard then?" She remarked softly. "I'm sorry."

His knuckles drained of colour when he clenched his fists at his sides. With a wave of his hand, the door shut, half broken from the hinges as a result of his temper. "Are you sorry because you've attempted to blow everything wide open, or because I know it was you?"

Hermione took a slow breath. "I knew from the moment I reported it that you would know. Have you reported it to Father?" She took a step toward him, the hem of her dress gently dragging across the top of her foot, and strappy sandals. "Has he reported it to Voldemort?"

His hand shot out, swifter than she could register, and his fingers dug into her shoulder with a sharp force. "Don't say that name." He muttered. "Hermione—"

"I don't want to be afraid of a name. Fear of a name—"

"—Increases fear of the thing itself." Theo sighed. "Now is not the time for you to be brave. I don't know if anyone is meant to stop this, but it's not  _you._ " His grip loosened before falling away completely. "When did you tell Harry?"

"The day after I left Hogwarts." She answered honestly.

It had only been four days since she sat in his kitchen and let everything spill out. She told him there had been Azkaban escapees inside of Malfoy Manor, that they had been in her home, and she'd had no choice but to divulge how she had attacked one of them.

This morning, he had woken her with a soft shake after sneaking from Theo's bedroom, and told her to keep her head down since he was leading the raid on Malfoy Manor in the early hours before dawn.

Theo sneered.

She wanted to reach for him, just for an ounce of reassurance, but Hermione thought he would smack her hand away. "I can't pretend nothing is happening." Hermione whispered. "I know that it's not me who is a vital part of this, but I can be a part. I can help, and that's what I'm going to do. Can't you understand?"

He didn't. Theo's face gave it away by the way his lip curled back, and he glared at her. "Do you know what they would do to you if they got ahold of you? It's only a matter of time before it's common knowledge in  _his_ circle that you're the one who put Lucius Malfoy in Azkaban."

Confinement is too good for him. Hermione swallowed. "Lucius was arrested?"

"Take a look at the Daily Prophet and you'll see a picture of Harry hurling him into the ground when he resisted arrest." Theo said. "You're more foolish than I thought if you truly believed this would fix everything. It's not so easy to capture Death Eaters."

Moments passed them by, and Hermione's face was blank. "They didn't catch them?"

"Of course they didn't. They knew the Ministry was coming." He snarled. "There was a plan, and you ruined it."

Her guilt was short-lived. Hermione lifted her chin. "There's a plan?"

"I'm not discussing this with you."

Her first reaction was to lash out, but of course, that was the sort of reaction that had been enabled by her upbringing. It was the wrong one, so she unclenched her fists, counted backward from five, and spoke. "Maybe you ought to, Theo. If I knew what was going on around me, I wouldn't step all over your plans. Have you ever thought of that? You can't protect me from this. I know you want to, but there's no—"

He threw his hands up, partly in anger, partly in exasperation, and his knuckles caught the side of a lamp. It crashed to the floor, it's shatter clanging around the room, sinking into her bones. Theo saw her stiffen, and shook his head. "Don't tell me what I can do. Everything I've— _every single thing—_ I have done to protect you."

Hermione turned away from him, drawing a shuddering breath as tears sprang to her eyes.

"You're not going to leave." He said under his breath, barely audible. "You've said it several times, and I knew it even then, but I had hoped I could lock you away somewhere off the continent until it was over." Theo raked his fingers through his hair, sighing heavily. "But you would find a way back."

She nodded.

"Father won't be home for three days." He began, casting a look at the walls around them. "What has Harry told you?"

Her lips parted in surprise. "What do you mean?"

Theo waved his wand, murmuring, " _Repairo."_ The shattered lamp pieced itself back together, and he levitated it to the table. "Don't look at me like that. I know he's told you something, but I need to know exactly which he's told you."

"I don't want to tell you anything he's kept from you."

He chuckled, his mouth curving into a wry smile that was so much like himself. "There is nothing you could tell me that Harry hadn't already shared with me."

She wondered about that briefly, of how many things Theo knew that she did not, but shelved it in her mind. "Horcruxes. He's searching for them, and if I can help locate them, I think that would be best. I wouldn't be out there, exposing myself to Death Eaters. I know Tom Riddle's diary is gone, but that there are several left."

His eyes widened, all pretenses of playfulness stripped away as he sighed. "It would be that." He groaned. Theo pinched the bridge of his nose, and tilted his head towards the door. "Right, we'll need to go to Father's study."

"Won't he know we've taken something?" Hermione hurried after him, holding up the hem of her dress so she didn't slip. "Theo?"

He looked over his shoulder, his features withdrawn and solemn. "Yes, but he won't have the time to return before You-Know-Who is done with him. When he returns… Just let me handle it."

Hermione didn't think it sounded like the best plan, but it was the only one they had.

* * *

The wards rippled around them as they passed through into the study, and Theo shot her a dark look. "Don't touch anything. He's grown paranoid, and I know he cast curses throughout the library."

"Then how are you going to find anything?" Hermione asked, and it immediately struck her. "The curses were made to keep me out, weren't they?"

"If it's any consolation, the curses wouldn't cause long term damage, not physically at least." Theo walked past the first shelves, coming to stand still in front of a blank wall. "He must realise how close you are."

He plucked a letter opener from the desk, pricking his finger. As a drop of blood rolled down his index finger, Theo lifted his wand, tracing a pattern she couldn't discern. "Don't start."

"He created blood wards." Hermione deadpanned. "I could still—"

Much like the mural that was now utterly lost to her, to her absolute irritation, the wall creaked, giving a low groan as the wood split just down the middle. It opened slowly, inch by inch, revealing an additional room as lights flickered on.

"If I had known this was here, I could have done the same thing."

"Of course, you could. If only you knew the spell also." Theo rolled his eyes. "Which is why if you touch anything, you'll be immediately Obliviated."

Air rushed from her lungs, and her heart pounded between her ears.

Obliviation.

She thought she was going to vomit over the rug.

Theo came to her side. "Breathe, Hermione. I'm not going to allow anything to happen to you. Here's what you need to do because I can't dispel anything in the room without possibly Obliviating myself. Stand in the middle of the room. I'll find what we need, and I'll make a copy of it."

Standing had never felt like such a chore. Hermione observed the room while Theo made his way to the other side.

Theo swiped his palm across the cover of the book, dust particles slowly floating midair. "This is the only book you would have seen it in, I believe." He murmured, cracking it open while leaning over a writing desk near her. "I'm not sure why it would have been available to you."

She gulped. Hermione vaguely remembered something, just on the outskirts of her mind, but when she reached for it, it slipped from her grasp. "I'm not sure. I know I read books in Father's study as a child, and there were occasions where he took them from me, citing they weren't for ladies. Perhaps that's it? I would have been so young that I must not remember it."

His shoulders dropped as he flicked through the pages. "That seems likely. Here it is." Theo propped it open against his chest, gripping the bottom of it carefully.

Hermione scanned the text, finding the keyword:  _Horcrux_. It went on to detail how they were made, which read just as Harry had told her. Her eyes jumped to the top of the page, finding the title printing on the page on the right, centered in the middle as they always were, and something in the back of her mind splintered, the shards crashing against one another.

_Magick Most Evil_

"Hermione?" Theo called. "Hermione!" The book tumbled from his hands, and the spine cracked on contact with the floor. "Can you hear me?"

There was a whirring in her ears. A memory wrapped around her that she had never seen before, or at least, couldn't recall on her own, but it was there.

_Hermione appeared to be eight, curled up in the chair behind her Father's desk with a book laid across her lap. She licked her finger before turning the page, finding something she'd never heard of before. A word. "Horcrux." She sounded it out, finding the way is rolled off her tongue as curious._

_Moments later, her father entered the room, and noted the book she held. "Father?" Hermione called. "What is a Horcrux? Will I learn about them at Hogwarts? Has Theo already—"_

_The tome sailed through the air into his open palm. His lips flattened into a thin line as his face contorted in fury, and she scrambled to her feet. "Father, I apologise. I didn't mean to make you angry."_

" _You must never know about these, Hermione." He said quietly, withdrawing his wand. "I'm so very sorry."_

_Fear rattled through her as she stared down his wand, her nails cutting into her palms as she twisted away, only to find herself held to the spot. "Father!"_

" _Obliviate."_

Hermione screamed, pain lacing through her skull as she dropped to her knees. Her brother fell in front of her, catching the best he could. "He Obliviated me." She gasped, digging her fingers into his shirt.

"What?"

Darkness skirted the sides of her vision. "I think I was nine. I was alone in his study, which I only began to do once you left for Hogwarts. I asked him, Theo. I asked him what Horcruxes were because I found that book, and he took the memory from me." She swallowed air, her fingers loosening their grip. "He doesn't have any reservations of Obliviating me now because he's done it before."

Theo's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Hermione, I need you to stay awake. We need to get you to a mind healer. You're not meant to remember Obliviated memories. The ramifications are—" The shock that he'd bottled ripped free of his chest in a rough cry as her mind slipped.

"Can't," she whispered, clutching her head before her body gave way and she sank into darkness.

* * *

Hermione woke to a soft light above her. Her limbs ached, and there was a sharp throb in her temple.

"Drink this," Daphne whispered, tilting a glass of water to her lips. "Slowly," She murmured, smoothing Hermione's hair. "That's it, every last drop, alright?"

The room was unrecognisable. Every surface was dark, a grim backdrop for where Daphne sat. "Where are we?"

"Grimmauld Place." Daphne replied, folding her hands in her lap. "Theo knew he couldn't take you to St Mungos, and this was the next best option he had." Daphne frowned, tearing her eyes away from Hermione. "You shouldn't be moving."

Hermione slung her legs over the side of the bed. "I need to go."

" _No,_ " Daphne hissed. "I think you've done enough running, Hermione." The words that left her mouth left no doubt of what would follow. "I've kept your secret for long enough. Theo needs to know."

She squeezed her eyes shut. "How did you figure it out?"

Heavily sighing, Daphne shook her head. "It was more of a well placed guess, but you said we had known him all of our lives. We don't know any werewolves, Hermione. However, I was at Hogwarts when he and Dumbledore came. I kept myself from being seen, but even from under his cloak, there's only one person I know with that shade of hair."

Hermione swallowed roughly, dropping her face into her hands. "I never wanted to lie to Theo."

"I know that, but it's time to stop. Tell me what's going on." Daphne took her hand, and gave a reassuring squeeze. "I haven't told anyone."

"His father Obliviated him when he survived Greyback's attack, and left him in France." Hermione muttered, anger creeping into her voice. "Draco found his way back because he wanted—"  _wants_  "—to kill him. He found me before that happened, and once I knew who he was, Dumbledore helped me hide him."

Mouth falling open, Daphne's eyes flew open. "Oh, my God."

"He doesn't remember Theo. For the person he is now, he doesn't even know Theo, and he begged me not to tell him. It's the only reason. I would have never—" Hermione's eyes filled with tears. "Theo and I went to Malfoy Manor. I drugged Lucius with Veritaserum to pull the memories from him, and I gave Draco all of the memories that I could."

"Hermione," she whispered. "Theo will forgive you. It may take some time, given this is quite the secret to keep, but you need to make it right, and you need to do it while there's time." Daphne brushed hair from her face, and sighed. "You're in no condition to go anywhere, so I will go to Draco, and I will bring him back here. I'll keep Theo out of the way for you to tell him, okay?"

"I should be the one to go." Hermione argued. "A stranger appearing without warning, especially so close to the full moon, could prove dangerous."

Daphne gave her a sad smile. "You won't be able to leave. You're expelled from the Apparition wards, but Hermione please." She clasped Hermione's hand in her own. "This has gone on long enough."

Still apprehensive, but left without a choice, Hermione nodded. "Can I leave the room at least?"

Daphne's chair screeched against the floor as she stood. "Yes. Theo's room is the last one on the right on the second floor." She lingered at the door, looking over her shoulder.

"How do you know where he is?"

She held up a rusted skeleton key that Dumbledore had left Hermione with. "Each time you're home, I see you pull this from a drawer just to make sure it's there. Am I correct in the assumption this will lead me straight to him?"

She gave another nod, knowing everything was about to change.

* * *

She lingered just outside the door of Theo's room until she heard Daphne disappear. The witch's departure had left her with more questions than anything. Why did Daphne know about Grimmauld Place?

Hermione gently knocked on the door, taking a step back. There was a rustling inside the room, likely covers being thrown off the bed, and there was a murmur of voices. The door swung open to reveal Theo, and Harry stood close behind him. "I need to talk to Theo."

Harry's brows lifted as her voice cracked. He left them without a word, pulling his shirt over his head as he exited the room.

"How are you feeling?" Theo reached out to pull her into a one armed hug. "You slept for ten hours."

Her heart was in her throat, and she couldn't breathe. "I'm fine. That's not what I need to talk to you about."

He arched an eyebrow. "That's fine, we have time. Once you were here, I returned to the castle. I have a copy of that book for you. If you want to, we can go over—"

Hermione clapped her hand over his mouth, and shook her head. "Theo, just..." She pulled him into the room by the wrist, squeezing past him.

He kicked the door shut. "You're worrying me."

A shudder rocked her frame, hot tears welling up in her eyes. "I've been lying to you for a long time, and I'm not sure if you'll ever be willing to forgive me. If you're not, well, I understand, but I—Do you remember when I asked you if you could ever hate me?"

Theo's arms fell to his sides, and his lips pressed into a thin line. "I believe I told you I could never hate you."

Hermione stared at the ceiling counting the cracks before the pressure in her chest lessened. "I'm not so sure about that."

"If this is about the bloke you're sneaking out to see, I don't care."

_He would care._

"It's not as if I've been completely transparent with you. There's plenty of terrible, dangerous things, and I've not breathed a word of it to you." Theo continued, shrugging his shoulders. "In this time, it's expected that we have our own secrets."

"He's alive." She blurted. "In the forest when I was attacked by Marcus Flint? There was another werewolf, and he killed him. I wasn't alone, Theo. Not from the attack to when Harry found me. I was with—"

Theo was always so in control of his temper, nothing like her, but his hand moved toward a lamp on its own. "Please don't tell me you stayed with a werewolf. I know that Remus is," He broke off, rubbing his face. "Alright, let's just move past that. Who's alive?"

She was going to pass out. "Dumbledore helped me hide him in a safehouse, and that's where I go."

"You're not making any sense, Hermione." Theo grabbed her by her elbows. "Slow down, and breathe."

"Draco's alive!" she blurted.

Theo let her go as if she burned him. His eyes flew open, and she watched him clench his jaw. "What did you say?"

"He's alive." Hermione breathed, watching grief flicker across his face. "Lucius Obliviated him in France. He doesn't remember anything before he was attacked. Theo—"

His head snapped to the side when there was the sound of Apparition. "How could you keep this from  _me_?" Theo said, and it would have been easier if he were yelling at her. Instead, he spoke in a fractured tone. "He was my best fucking friend, Hermione! What the fuck were you thinking!"

"I know that." Hermione rubbed her eyes as tears rolled down her cheeks. "I know all of that, Theo. I made a promise—"

"To who?" He roared. "I'm your brother, and he's—" The door slammed open, and Theo didn't turn. "Get out, Potter. You're not going to convince me not to yell at her."

Hermione's mouth dried.

Draco stepped over the threshold, a tight grimace curving his lips. "I think I'm the one you should be yelling at." He said bluntly, sliding his hands into his pockets. "Considering I'm the one that she promised."

Theo stiffened, narrowing his eyes, but he made no move to look over his shoulder. "Is that…?"

"It's really him, I promise, but he's not how you remember." Hermione spoke softly. "Please, Theo, you have every right to be angry. Just please let me explain the rest of this."

He shook his head. "I'll hear it from him. I can't even look at you right now."

Draco crossed the space in the room, leaving Daphne alone at the door. He passed Theo, and slid an arm around Hermione's waist in a familiar move. Pressing his lips to her temple, she could feel his smile as she leaned into him. "I think you should go downstairs now. I imagine Theo and I should talk."

She took another look at Theo, who didn't give her a space glance as his glare went over her head. "I'm so sorry." Hermione escaped, closing the door behind her.

"'Mione?" Harry and Ron stood at the side of the door. It was Ron who had called her name, and he stepped up to pull her away from the door. "Eavesdropping won't do you any good. We can go downstairs, alright?"

Harry appeared to be conflicted, and followed after them.

* * *

Draco stood across from Theo, his fingers digging into the fabric of a chair he stood behind. "You're Theo then?" Draco rumbled. "I've only seen you in memories."

When Theo stared at him curiously, he realised Hermione had never gotten that far into the truth.

"Right then," Draco said. "I don't remember you, not beyond the memories that Hermione gave me, which were really quite a few. I remember that you told me you could live without me before I left, and I've thought of little else in the last two months."

"What do you mean you've seen memories?" Theo asked, but Draco suspected he'd already put the pieces together, and was waiting for confirmation. Theo waved his hand. "Nevermind. You've been Obliviated?"

Draco gave a slight nod. "Lucius Obliviated me once he realised I had survived the attack. I'm not sure why he didn't murder me then, given the fact that he's had no problem murdering others before, but here I am. I asked Hermione not to tell you. The second she saw my face, she was going to bring me to you."

Theo bristled, shifting as he continued to stand, continuing to keep distance between them. "That's no excuse. She had every chance to be honest. This wasn't a minor secret. I mourned your death for months, and I see you everywhere I go. Is that what you'd like to hear? Not a day goes by that you don't cross my mind, and Hermione knows it."

He didn't interrupt.

"I don't care if she promised you shite." Theo muttered. "How do you know it was Lucius?"

"It wasn't done very well." Draco said. He traced the back of the chair, sighing. "However, I know for sure because Hermione drugged him with Veritaserum when the two of you went to Malfoy Manor, the same time that she overheard you with Death Eaters."

Theo's anger changed, his eyes flashing before he pivoted from one foot to the other, and stormed toward the door. "She  _drugged_  him?" He repeated, his hand resting on the doorknob, and he ripped it open.

Draco's hand shot out, his wand a light weight in his grip, and the door slammed shut. "No, your fight is with me. At least for now."

His hand fell away from the door, but Theo didn't turn around. "You don't remember me at all then?"

The floorboards creaked under Draco's feet as he shifted. "No, I don't." His voice was low, and he rubbed his eyes before continuing. "I've watched memories of you time and time again. Hermione has told me all of the stories that she can think of, and sometimes there are flickers that I think could be a memory of my own, but—"

Theo's mouth was still a flat line.

"I remember you said you could live without me before I left for France." Draco said quietly, and suddenly, all of the air had been sucked out of the room. "She said you dwelled on that. I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "I want to remain angry, but you're  _here._ You're alive, and even if you don't remember me…"

A yelp floated up the stairs and Draco bristled.

"She's laughing." Theo said.

The distressed wail that followed still didn't sound like any sort of laugh he'd ever heard. "Are you sure?"

Theo's shoulders fell when he laughed. "When she's upset, Harry and Ron go out of their way to make her laugh. I would assume she's still crying while laughing." In the same moment, his eyes dropped to the floor while discussing how Hermione was likely crying. "I was harsh."

While Draco agreed, he didn't voice it. "I'm sorry for this, for forcing her to keep this from you."

The truth of it was that Hermione wouldn't have done anything she didn't want to do. Clearly, that was why the situation cut Theo so deeply. "Daphne knew?"

"Apparently," Draco's response was strangled. "I had no idea she did until she stepped out of the fireplace. It took some convincing before I believed her."

"Was there anyone else who knew about you?"

"Dumbledore put me in the safehouse. When Hermione was Petrified, he let me visit her. However, there is one more, but you should understand that he didn't know who I was. Harry knew I was a werewolf, but not that it was  _me._ "

Like he'd feared, Theo paused. The only indication that he's heard Draco was the fractional widening of his eyes. "Elaborate on that."

Draco's gaze darted around the room, landing anywhere that wasn't the absolutely crestfallen look on Theo's face. "After she tracked me down and once she knew it was me, she asked Harry to put her in contact with Dumbledore."

Theo nodded stiffly.

The silence that stretched between them was uncomfortable, but unsurprising. "This is Grimmauld Place then?"

"Yes."

"Is the reason you brought her here related to what happened today?"

Theo arched a brow. "What do you know about it?"

 _Fuck._ He shouldn't have said anything at all. Draco assumed his friend had heard enough lies for the day, so he opted for the truth. And it went worse than announcing that he was alive. "I can sense her distress across the bond, if she's in danger, or—"

His eyes sharpening dangerously. " _Bond?"_ Theo echoed, his fingers twitching toward his wand.

"I didn't—watch it!" Draco jumped to the side when a letter opener nearly struck his temple.

"I am," Theo grumbled.

"I didn't bite her!" Draco snapped, and the loud laughter beneath their feet quieted. "I didn't." He repeated.

Theo sank into the chair he'd vacated, and raked his fingers through his hair. "This is absolutely mental. I need to get out of here."

Draco didn't move from his spot. "I think you should talk to Hermione before you go."

He gritted his teeth before he nodded.

* * *

"Mum told me you visited." Ron murmured as they sat in the entryway.

Harry had left her for what she could only assume was a spirited argument with Theo given how long they'd been gone. And Theo had not spared her a glance after coming downstairs. Daphne and Draco were likely still awkwardly sitting across from one another in the sitting room.

And Ron was doing his best to listen to her vent since he was the only one who  _hadn't_ known about Draco in some respect. He was still miffed over it, but he'd let it go a second after pointing it out.

She nodded. "I wanted to hear about Gideon."

"It's fucking mental, isn't it?" He continued, ignoring what truly had her chest threatening to split open. "We dated that one time, and we're cousins. Do you think that's why it was so gross that time we snogged?"

There was no controlling the loud snicker that left her. "I don't think that had anything to do with it, but I'll let you think that."

He bumped her shoulder with his. "Theo will forgive you. It might take a little time, but I'm sure of that."

"Thanks." Hermione brought her knees to her chest. "You can ask."

He blew out a breath. "I just can't wrap my head around it. He's alive and the two of you are together. It was a shock is all."

She knew that. "I should have told Theo, shouldn't I? I was wrong."

Ron didn't reply beyond grimacing.

"It was not a rhetorical question. I want you to answer."

Despite him shaking his head, Hermione knew he would answer. "Yes, I think you were wrong." The back of his head met the wall and he stared at the chandelier. "I understand now that Malfoy had… issues with anyone knowing because of his memory loss, but I think Theo deserved to know all along."

"Yes," Hermione breathed. "I think so too." Regret twisted in her gut.

But when she wondered if she could change anything even if she could go back, Hermione found she didn't have the answer for that. She feared Theo would ask, and they would be unable to move forward.

She couldn't hold a grudge if they didn't.

"Hermione!" Daphne yelled, her voice panicked.

She and Ron shared a tense look before springing to their feet. They entered the sitting room together, and found Draco bunches over the wireless. "What's going on?"

Draco smacked the side of the worn out machine, and it gave one final wheeze before static crackled from it. He scowled, brushing too long hair from his face.

Color had drained from Daphne's face, and strands of hair had come loose from her chignon. "Amelia Bones was found murdered, and Susan Bones is missing, as are her parents."

Ron announced that he and Harry needed to get to the Ministry as soon as possible. For all they looked, the four of them found that Harry was no longer in Grimmauld Place, and neither was Theo.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm ramping up to….something. But if the war doesn't just totally break out I may lose my mind. Haha. What I wanted to say was that I struggle a lot writing Kismet, and my doubt that I'm pulling this off. Regardless, the reason I'm telling you that embarrassing bit is because I'm so grateful for the favorites, and reviews. I love reading them when I'm trying to write the next chapter.
> 
> Next Chapter Snippet: It didn't feel like a defining moment, but he said, "Look at me." Deadly serious, Theo continued, "I'm going on missions for the Order. Auror Moody is the one sending me out, and he has been for over a month. It started as scouting."


	21. Chapter Twenty-One

**MykEsprit and mcal are the only reasons I've been able to keep going. I'm infinitely thankful to have them.**

* * *

The door opened with a faint creak, and it closed just as quietly. "You can't sleep either?" Daphne called. She lingered at the door, clasping her hands in front of her before wringing her fingers. "Hermione?"

Her stomach had not stopped rolling since the news of the Head of the DMLE was murdered, her niece and immediate family assumed dead as well. It was not as if she'd suffered a great loss in Amelia Bones; she'd only met her on occasion, but she realised it for what it was: the beginning.

Or maybe they were in the middle, and she was still foolishly convincing herself otherwise.

"Draco is in the sitting room, flipping through photo albums. I brought them," Daphne hedged carefully. "I thought he might like to see them."

Hermione nodded. "That was thoughtful. Thank you."

The mattress dipped slightly as she sat beside Hermione, reaching over to join their hands. "A knut for your thoughts?"

There were twenty-seven cracks in the floor that she could see, two gashes in the floor made by what she could only imagine was a blade of some sort—possibly a dagger was driven into the ancient wood. There were slights in the ceiling, imperfections in the wall she'd spent the last hour staring at while she attempted to gather her thoughts.

"Why are we here? Grimmauld is meant to be headquarters for the Order." Hermione finally said, her voice hoarse. "I wasn't able to ask Theo." It left a bitter taste in her mouth, one that she deserved, and the look on his face as he realised the extent of her lies made bile rise in her throat.

"It wasn't safe to take you to St Mungos once you collapsed, even though you're in desperate need of a mind healer. There are..." Daphne squeezed her hand. "Theo told you there are You-Know-Who's supporters inside the Ministry?"

She nodded.

"The Order believes they're inside St Mungos too. Theo only told me that today; he keeps me in the dark, but I have some training in the area of healing." Daphne fidgeted, picking under her nails. "Not nearly enough, however. Tomorrow, we should expect a certified mind healer to arrive."

Hermione didn't ask where they would find one they could trust. She already had an idea. "I see. Where is Theo?"

Daphne froze, staring straight ahead, and she didn't turn even when Hermione did. "I can't tell you where Theo is."

There was a sick, grinding sensation in her chest. "Of course you can't."

"I kept your secret, Hermione. I kept it from Theo even when it made me sick." Daphne whispered. There wasn't a single trace of anger in her voice. "So, no, I won't tell you this, but he will."

There was a new imperfection Hermione found in the wallpaper peeling away from the wall. "What do you think a mind healer will tell me?" Hermione changed the subject, knowing it was unfair to linger on Theo, and it was certainly a double standard to expect Daphne to tell her anything.

Daphne cleared her throat. "I think you'll be recommended daily potions for a stretch. Processing memories that have been taken from you is dangerous, but with the way you remembered… The worst case is that there are other memories you've lost, that have been  _taken_ ," she corrected. "And you may remember them as the result of a trigger. Theo said it was a book that caused this?"

She nodded, vividly remembering the memory of when she was much younger, across from her father in his study. "Yes, I read something I wasn't meant to, and he didn't want me to remember. Once I saw the title of the book, the memory surged up."

Squeezing her hand, Daphne smiled. "It must have hurt."

Like something spearing through her mind with no sense of direction. "It did."

She covered Hermione's hand with her other hand, cupping it and her smile didn't fall. "Most people would black out from that kind of pain." Daphne informed her. "You're quite strong, Hermione."

It was such a ridiculous thing to hear, and Hermione's head snapped up. "What did you say?"

Always encouraging, Daphne repeated herself, but this time she spoke much slower just to get under Hermione's skin. "It's true. Maybe you can't fight like Harry, or Ron, or Theo, but you're brave. I think you held onto that memory as tightly as you could."

She hadn't.

She  _hadn't_ , and it was nothing spectacular if she had. Foolish, it was—

"That's the sort of determination I think carries you through." Daphne rose their joined hands, her eyes a bright blue as she peered over them. "You deserved to hear it. You're not the sum of your parts. It's not that simple."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Where did you hear about that?"

Daphne shrugged. "I didn't, but we've been friends for long, Hermione. I know you inside and out. Ron said you visited with Molly about Gideon, and I pieced it together."

Hermione wanted to bottle it, to store it on a shelf in her head, and leave all of her self-doubt elsewhere before it could poison her. "This isn't the time to be worried—"

Her friend snorted. "This is exactly the time. Who knows how much time we have before we're at war, and  _don't_ tell me we're already there. It's going to fall apart, and these are the issues that have the power to cripple you. So," Daphne leaned back and crossed her legs. "Tell me all about it."

* * *

Theo stumbled into Grimmauld early the next morning, where Hermione sat in front of the hearth, which remained unlit. Grime covered him from head to toe, and she spotted the blood on his neck as he stumbled, grappling the back of the armchair. "Have you even slept?" He gasped.

She shook her head. "I wanted to wait for you, on the unlikely chance you'd be willing to speak to me."

He stared at her, his gaze harsh before is softened. "Where is he?"

"Asleep upstairs. Can I help you clean up? You're bloody." Hermione stood, wiping her clammy hands against her trousers.

Theo sighed as he nodded, beckoning her down the corridor with a tilt of his head. "It's not as bad as it looks."

Hermione didn't believe him. She padded down the corridor, pressing the door open to the room where she had woken a day earlier. "Daph says there should be a mind healer here today. Did you arrange that?"

He shook his head. "No," he grunted as he sat at the foot of the cot. Theo peeled off his shirt, revealing that he  _had_ been lying. Bruises that were stretched across his chest and down his abdomen were already turning a deep purple, and there were multiple gashes down his torso. "Tonks is handling it."

"Tonks?"

"She's an Auror. You'll probably meet her later today, or tomorrow. She's fond of Remus."

Hermione wrung out a wet cloth before carefully cleaning the cuts as she used basic sterilization charms. "Remus? Good for him." She muttered. Of course, she had questions, but given the night before, she wasn't so likely to get them. Yet… "If I ask you where you went last night, will you tell me?"

He shifted uncomfortably.

"Does it have anything to do with Amelia Bones?"

Theo mistakenly headbutted her, and busted her lip. "Oh, fuck, I'm sorry!"

She swatted his hands away. "It's fine. My lip just stings." Hermione wiped the blood from his neck. "There's no cut here."

He swallowed audibly. "Not my blood." It was a whisper.

All she could do was nod, and push the hair from her face. "I see. I understand you can't tell me. I just want you to be safe, even though I don't think that's possible anymore. Not when Harry is involved. The two of you disappeared at the same time. Whatever you were doing, I hope something came of it."

It felt like what would have been a defining moment, but nothing came of it. Theo said nothing of what he'd been doing, or whose blood he'd been covered in. Was it Harry's? Hermione didn't know.

Theo waved her off as she neared him, looking fearful as he said he would need sutures. "I'll wait for Daphne to wake up."

Hermione placed her hands on her hips. "You could get an infection."

He nodded. "Yes, I'll take the risk of infection over you attempting sutures." Theo laughed when her face twisted in indignation. "Harry hasn't come back yet, I take it?"

"No, not yet."

"Right then," Theo braced his palms on his thighs. "He's probably at the Ministry then. Hermione, there's something I need to ask you to do, and for once, I just need you to listen to me."

Her hip bumped the tray behind her. "I won't leave Grimmauld Place." Hermione said, grinning when shock overtook him. "I know. It's a surprise for me to agree with you, and especially before you've even asked. I have a lot of questions, but they can wait. But," her voice broke, and he already knew what was coming, it was etched across his face. "I'm so sorry."

Theo struggled to stand, and he didn't listen to her protests. He wrapped her in a one armed hug, and patted her hair. "Don't misunderstand, I'm still hurt by what you kept for me, but I'm furious that you drugged Lucius Malfoy."

She tried to wiggle away, and he let her do no such thing. "Did Draco tell you that?"

"He did." Theo replied. "If it's any consolation, he looked like he regretted it immediately afterwards. Does Lucius have any memory of this?"

Hermione shook her head. "Of course not. I Obliviated him before I left Malfoy Manor." She stared at her bare feet, chewing the inside of her cheek. "I needed to give the truth to Draco. I felt like I owed it to him. In reality, I owed  _you_  the truth, but—"

Theo nodded. "I understand, but it doesn't mean I have to like it.

* * *

In the morning, Hermione sat beside Draco,  _not_ focusing on his fingers trailing her outer thigh through her jeans. Grimmauld Place had shifted from hide-a-way to headquarters overnight.

Three Aurors landed in the Floo, and Tonks was the only one to not look severe. She tripped over the edge of the rug, and Remus caught her with a sigh. Whether anyone else caught it, Hermione didn't know, but she noticed the way Tonks' eyes lit up as she took in the man in front of her, laying her hands on his forearms as if she had done it many times before, and would continue to do so.

Remus turned to Hermione, tucking his hands into his worn trousers. There was a patch over the knee, and another on the calf. "The mind healer will be here soon."

She nodded. "So, Harry's told you already?"

"Theo, actually."

Theo and Remus hardly spoke, and she lifted an eyebrow. "When did he have the time?"

"You were unconscious for most of the day yesterday." Remus pointed out.

Draco's hand tightened over her knee. As a smile formed at the edge of his mouth, Hermione bumped her shoulder against his. "Yes," she said slowly as Remus cast a look across the room toward her brother. "It was a shock to wake here. Do you know the mind healer then?"

He shook his head. "Hardly. He's from France. Healer Bernard worked with us during the first war after his wife was taken by Death Eaters." Remus' eyes darkened, and were suddenly far away, leaving her with the sense that he was seeing through them.

She cleared her throat. "Did they ever…?"

"No." His voice was tight. "Well, Moody believes it  _may_  have been her, but without proof." Remus trailed off, wincing when he shrugged. "Bernard contacted Moody the moment there were rumors of You-Know-Who's return." His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed roughly, continuing in a tight voice, "Remus," as he leaned forward to shake Draco's hand.

"Draco," he replied easily. "You were my Defence professor."

Remus' eyes jerked to Hermione's. "Have you begun to remember things?"

"Oh, no." Draco replied. He leaned forward with his elbows rested on his knees. "I've seen memories of Hermione's, and some she took from others."

She ignored the chastising look their former professor gave her. "I returned them once he had viewed them."

"I got the impression that I acted like a prejudiced brat once I learned you were a werewolf. Isn't that ironic? However, I apologise for it." Draco's fingers brushed over her knuckles as Remus left them. "Are you worried what the healer may find?"

Shaking her head, Hermione watched as Remus moved from them, his attention caught by Harry as he left the room. Their heads close together as they whispered. "No," she said. "If there's anything else I've been forced to forget, I imagine it will be too dangerous to retrieve the memories."

Was there anything else taken from her mind? Hermione couldn't justify her gut instinct, but she didn't believe there was. She had replayed the memory over and over again until the name  _Horcruxes_  rattled around in her brain. Father had wiped it from her mind for a reason, and her stomach churned to consider those reasons.

* * *

Healer Bernard confirmed what she suspected: there was nothing else to find. There were no gaps in her memory that were typical of Obliviation victims, but he did suggest that she take daily potions for two weeks for the strain that had been placed on her mind.

At Hermione's urging, Draco sat in front of the healer, and allowed him to run diagnostics on him as well. The news for Draco, as dire as it was, turned out to be just as Hermione suspected. The Obliviation could only be reversed—without risk—by the original caster, and Lucius would never do so. To attempt a reversal would put Draco's mind in a precarious position.

He immediately held up his hand. It wasn't worth it.

With a grim look on his face, and a frown twisting his lips, Healer Bernard sat in the chair across from the cot. "There's also the chance that you will remember things, as Hermione did, and the consequences of that are just as dangerous."

Bed ridden was a best case scenario, though Draco soured at the suggestion of it as well.

The worst case scenario was memories resurging and shredding his mind irreversibly. It would mean a life long stay in the Janus Thickney ward, and there was nothing to be done to prevent it.

Hermione's fingers curled around Draco's.

* * *

They didn't return to the safehouse for anything but retrieving the clothing left here, and the boxes of books she'd brought with her. There was no need for the  _Beginner's Guide to Spells_  now that Draco had surpassed even what she'd expected, but for the sake of nostalgia, she shrunk it and stowed it away.

Arriving through the Floo connected to Grimmauld, Hermione severed the connection between the two locations, not wanting to leave any way open into the Order. Draco carried their things into the room they'd shared for the past two nights, and she found Theo leaned against the counter in the kitchen.

"Have you heard from Father?" She asked. "Is he looking for me?"

Theo met her gaze with a terse nod. "I haven't let anything slip if that's what you're asking."

Her chest caved in on itself. It had been like this, tense and awkward, since the first night. While hoping for the best was the optimistic thing to do, Hermione had dug a hole for herself that she'd naively thought she could step around. However, there were no shortcuts when it came to earning back one's trust.

He sighed as she turned away. "Wait. That was the wrong to say."

Hermione shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

"It does." He unclenched his jaw, and ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm leaving tonight, and I won't be back for a few days. I don't want you to worry."

She nodded. "Stay safe. Will anyone be with you?"

Theo shook his head.

Casting a look at the doorway and finding it empty, Hermione decided it was the only moment she would get to ask. She closed the distance between them. "Does the Order know Father is a Death Eater?"

His grip on his mug tightened. "Yes, but not everyone. It's best you don't mention it at all."

"Of course," she agreed. "Can you tell me where you're going?"

He didn't say anything as he sipped his tea. "I can't." Theo wouldn't meet her eyes directly, and instead looked at the pans above her head, or the decrepit chandelier hanging over the dining room table. "Harry will be here tonight."

Hermione stepped away from him. "I'll see him then. I assume I'm still not to leave Grimmauld?"

He scowled. "Don't say it like you're being held prisoner."

Heat filled her cheeks. "I want to help. Hiding here isn't going to help anyone, Theo. I would ask anyone else about this, but there's been no one here who I can discuss anything with beyond  _you._ Remus was here for twenty minutes at the most yesterday, and you leave any room I walk into."

Theo drained the last of his tea before dumping the cup into the sink. "I can't give you anything to do, and I can't tell you about what I'm doing. When Harry arrives, ask when Mad-Eye will be here, but I wouldn't get your hopes up. He'll take one look at you, and assume you have no place—"

"Then I'll show him that I do." Hermione cut in. "You'll be safe?"

"No," Theo snorted. "I'll be incredibly reckless and get myself killed."

Hermione lifted her hand and wrapped her fingers around the necklace at her throat. "Don't even joke about it. I'll see you when you're back."

His features softened as she left the kitchen.

* * *

Draco sat across from her, one leg crossed over the other, while he snapped open the latest edition of the Daily Prophet.

True to what Theo had said, Harry arrived minutes after ten o'clock. He was beaten ragged, blood soaking into the collar of his uniform, and he took a weary look at her. "I'll be right back." Harry grumbled. He walked with a slight limp on his right side that hadn't been there the last time she'd seen him.

In the span of three days, it felt as if a week or longer had passed. She could distinctly place where a new began, and ended, but time seemed to pass oddly in Grimmauld Place.

Harry joined them moments later, having changed his clothes, and scrubbed away any traces of battle. "Where's Daphne?" He asked, taking the spot on the far end of Draco's sofa.

"Home," Hermione replied. "You're alright?"

"It wasn't my blood."

Giving little pause at that, Hermione wasn't surprised by that statement. How many more times would she hear those exact words? Electing to get right to the point, Hermione asked, "When will Mad-Eye Moody be here next?"

Harry's knuckles turned white as he squeezed the arm rest. "He'll be here for the next Order meeting, but there's nothing planned. Why?"

Draco licked his finger and turned the page of the Prophet, not minding either of them.

"I'd like to help, if there's anything I can do." Hermione said slowly. "I understand that I'm not you, or Ron, but surely there must be something?"

He bit his lower lip. "Then we'll raise the issue at the next meeting. Right now, you should be worried about hiding, but I know it would make anyone mental."

She sighed, threading her fingers together. "What exactly am I hiding from, Harry? My father?"

"Did Theo not tell you anything?" Harry growled, springing to his feet. "He didn't tell you a goddamn thing, did he?"

Hermione looked at Draco as he laid the newspaper across his lap. She shook her head, watching Harry pace in front of the sofa. "Theo's not been interested in speaking to me. The conversations we do have are short, and they lack substance. Not that I blame him, but there's been no time—"

"There's been nothing but time." Harry snapped. "He's angry, fine. That's not an excuse for leaving you in the dark." He fell back into his seat, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It was a coincidence that you fainted in the study, and he was able to use that as an excuse to bring you here. We received intel last week that Death Eaters have been told to capture you if they can, or kill you on sight."

Draco's eyes narrowed when she looked at him. His jaw was tight. "Why?" He snarled.

"It's not because of You-Know-Who." Harry said. "It's Bellatrix."

A stone sank in her stomach. "How do you know this?"

Harry swallowed, hesitating as he let the silence stretch between them.

She understood in an instant. "There's a spy for the Order in the Death Eaters, isn't there?" It wasn't something Hermione was meant to know, and she stopped before she could ask questions about who it could possibly be. "Theo threatened to lock me inside of the castle a couple of time."

"It wouldn't have been a good idea. Your father is, well..."

"Who's to say he wouldn't allow Death Eaters into our home as well." Hermione whispered. Wiggling her toes and digging them into the plush carpet, she supposed that was all there was to it. Theo had concealed it from her, in the vein of attempting to keep her safe. "I'm sorry to bring you into the middle of our squabble."

Harry told her it was fine, and she heard him, but the cover of the newspaper lying on the floor caught her eyes. Hermione bent to pick it up, smoothing it across her lap.

The article is on the fifth page, sandwiched between miscellaneous articles that hardly amount to anything, but lead formed in her stomach. "Delores Umbridge," Hermione said aloud. "That sounds familiar."

"She opposed you in the Wizengamot hearing after you were attacked. She's a foul, toad like woman, and you said as much yourself." Harry told her.

There was no picture accompanying the article, but she remembered the woman who had been dressed from head to toe in pink vividly. " _Hem, hem,"_ still infuriated Hermione just by the memory. "She's the new Defence professor this year. It says here that the Ministry selected her."

There was no need to voice the suspicion that the Ministry wasn't trustworthy as the world around them continually began to shift. Further down the article, which was quite short, but packed with quotes following the short statement after her appointment, Hermione read that Delores Umbridge had been overheard for various prejudiced statements regarding Werewolves, but also Muggleborns.

The news seemed to leave a bad taste in Harry's mouth, who muttered that he would speak to the headmaster about it.

* * *

Daphne didn't return the next day, nor did Harry. Theo was still gone, but Harry informed her he was with their father in France.

Hermione woke to Draco grumbling about her hair smothering him, and she scooted away from him, her arm dangling over the side. Counting the cracks in the floor, and scraping them with her nails, she thought he'd gone back to sleep. Until he traced her spin through the thin shirt she wore.

"Come here," he whispered.

Sighing, Hermione slid across the sheets, laying her head on the pillow beside him. "It's early."

Draco nodded, tugging her closer by her hips. He rested his hand on her waist, idly tracing the slope of her curves while she pressed her face into the pillow. "I like this—waking up with you."

She didn't look up. Too afraid that he would notice the way her eyes watered when they shouldn't—it was important to reign in her emotions, and to not let them run rampant—Hermione agreed. Wiping her face against the soft fabric, she looked up at him. "It's nice that I don't have to vanish in the mornings."

"For now," he murmured. Draco propped himself up on his elbow, staring down at her. "It may not last forever though."

Hermione blinked, and stared at him. "Draco—"

He quieted her with a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. "Don't. It's okay." He whispered. "I'll take all that I can get with you right now, but if something happens to tear us apart, just know that I'll be waiting to wake up with you again."

Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck. "Okay." She shuddered.

His arms were tight around her middle as she climbed into his lap. Draco sat up, leaning against the headboard while she straddled him. "I'm sorry that Theo is angry with you." He reached up to push a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry for how your life has changed because of me. Lying to Theo, putting yourself into dangerous situations…"

"Only once."

"Do you think it will be the last time you endanger yourself for me, or someone else?" Draco asked her quietly, his hands coming to rest on her hips.

_Well, no._

"I think you would do the same thing for me." She ran the tips of her fingers over a scar leading down his ribs, a waxy stretch of skin that sat above his skin rather than blending in with the rest.

He cradled the back of her head, leaning forward and slanting his lips against hers. Tracing the seam of her lips with his tongue, asking for more, Draco crushed her to him, leaving her shivering in his lap. "You would find that there is no limit of what I would do for you." He growled.

Something flickered between them. Hermione tended to think of the bond between them as a string. One that grew impossibly taut the farther they were from one another, but she had noticed—as had he, she was sure—that lately, it was stretched so tightly that it may snap completely.

She wasn't sure what it meant, and if Draco knew, he didn't tell her.

And she didn't ask either.

He bit her lower lip as his fingers knotted in her hair, urging her closer to him. "Hermione," He groaned when she ground down on him, and her nails raked across his chest. "Full moon tonight." Draco managed.

Hermione tilted her head to the side. "I want all of you, if you're willing."

Draco seized her by her forearms, rolling her onto her back, and pressing her into the matress without a moment of hesitation.

* * *

**I realise it's been a while since I updated. I'm sorry, and hope that you're still with me, but I'm treading water with this. Next chapter will likely be delayed, but I promise I'm doing my best. Hearing what you think is nice encouragement though if you have time!**

**Next Chapter Snippet:** _She counted each second as they ticked by, waiting for the Floo to activate._

_When it didn't, she waited. Theo had always been late. This was nothing new._

_An hour passed._

_Two hours._

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts.


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